


A Soul Broken

by Daydreaming_Scribe



Series: The Final Arc [1]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Angel Sam, Cage Trauma, Hurt Sam Winchester, Implied Relationships, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con, Lucifer's Cage, Overprotective Dean, POV Tracy Bell, Pansexual Sam, Post-Cage, Post-Season/Series 10, Post-Season/Series 10 AU, Post-Season/Series 10 Finale, Psychic Sam, Sam Winchester's Demonic Powers, Sam's Bitchface, Sam's Terrible Life, Sam-Centric, Self-Harm, Unrequited Crush, Witch Sam
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-08-23
Updated: 2015-09-08
Packaged: 2018-04-16 21:09:49
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 2
Words: 38,876
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4640322
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Daydreaming_Scribe/pseuds/Daydreaming_Scribe
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>I realize this is a lot of strange tags, but bear with me.</p><p>Tracy is with Krissy, Josephine, and Aidan on a hunt in Florida, when they run into her least favorite person: Sam Winchester, the reason her family is dead.</p><p>After hearing Sam's story, however, she begins to worry.</p><p>Especially now that he's not with Dean, and is suffering a heavy backlash of nightmares from The Cage.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. The Fall

**Author's Note:**

> Okay, the tags might throw you off, but I'll clarify here.
> 
> This chapter is explaining most of the stuff in the series from Sam's point of view, even though he's telling it to Tracy. It will be kind of rude to Dean, Castiel, and Gabriel, because it will point out how their 'helping' of Sam borders on the abusive.
> 
> It also rationalizes why Sam would trust Ruby and drink demon blood, and it will even justify things like Ruby's dramatic change in character from Season 3 to Season 4 (Despite what fans say, Eric Kripke played a smart game by having Gen act completely different from Kate until the final epsidoes). This also justifies the leaving of Adam in the Cage, before and after Sam's wall broke. 
> 
> Sam's Pansexual in this fic, but it isn't really relevant to the story. Just a casual headcanon dispensed.

“Fuck.” Tracy swore under her breath, as the female MMA fighter approached her.

Of course this had to happen. She had thought it was going to be an easy hunt. It had seemed so. Maybe it was stupidity. After all, with nine missing persons being abducted by completely covered figures with super-human strength in broad daylight from the area of Miami-Dade County Florida, she didn’t know why she hadn’t looked further into it. She figured vampire, maybe demon. So she called in Krissy, Josephine, and Aidan for help. They’d been able to pinpoint the monsters’ base of operations to an abandoned farmhouse.

When they’d entered, they were shocked to find an underground fighting rink being held by Norse Pagan gods, specifically a sextet who called themselves Valkyries, and a tall blond woman who identified herself as Freya.

Freya had been enthused when they found her. She had revealed that the battle that would take place would require 13 warriors, and before the hunters had stumbled into the trap, they had only 9.

The four hunters were thrown into a pit in the center of the barn with the other victims, the seven goddesses announcing that they would have to fight to the death. Krissy, Tracy, Aidan and Josephine tried to talk their fellow captives out of it.

They didn’t really want to go along with four teenagers against seven ancient beings. Imagine that.

So, here she was: sprained arm, shattered leg, about to be pummeled to death by a ferocious blond female wrestler, when she heard a primordial scream of agony ripped through the air.

Looking up to the edge of the pit, she saw that one of the Valkyries had been impaled by one end of a broadsword. And at the other end……..

Double Fuck.

Triple Fuck.

Sam Winchester, the idiot who started the Apocalypse.

She’d rather be rescued by Garth.

She’d rather die.

As Winchester removed the sword from the goddess, letting her body tumble into the pit, he was swarmed by more of the Valkyries, all crying vengeance for their fallen sister.

Meanwhile, Princess Kung-Fu Barbie (that’s what she was going to call the female MMA fighter from now on) had picked her up by the collar of her shirt. Smiling hideously, the blond girl raised a fist, ready to make contact with her face. Thankfully, Winchester’s untimely arrival had functioned as a distraction. Aidan had snuck up behind them and struck Barbie on the side of the head with a rock.

The downside of this was that she dropped Tracy on the same leg that was broken, before falling on top of her. She gave a cry of pain.

“Trace!” Aidan called out in panic, helping her out from under the woman and lifting her to her feet. “You alright?”

 “No, Jackass, she dropped me on my broken leg.” She grumbled, cuffing him on the back of the head. “And don’t call me Trace!” Aidan winced.

“Jeez, okay.” He relented. Looking up to the top of the pit, he nodded in appreciation. “Winchester seems to be holding his own.” Following Aidan’s gaze, Tracy saw Sam taking on Freya, having killed the six Valkyries. He’d ditched the broadsword for what looked like a combination between a spear and a sapling.

“Yeah, whatever.” She dismissed him. Turning around, she saw that Josephine and Krissy were taking out the rest of the fighters in a similar manner.

A shout of pain drew her gaze back to the top of the pit, where Freya had overpowered Sam, her hand wrapped around his throat as she lifted him off the ground (Given his height and muscle mass, this was a mute testament to the goddess’ strength). Grabbing his shoulder with the other hand, she gave a sharp twist, and Sam cried out as a sickening snap rang through the barn. Chuckling, the goddess dropped him to the floor, and with a swift kick sent him tumbling into the pit, stopping at around Tracy and Aidan’s feet. Lifting his upper body with one arm, panting and wincing, he cracked open a hazel eye.

“Hey, Aidan. Hey Tracy.” He groaned slightly. Offering an arm, Aidan helped the man to his feet, while Jo and Krissy ran over to them, having incapacitated the rest of the victims. Scoffing, Tracy glared at the man.

“What are you doing here, Winchester?” Sam raised an eyebrow, somewhat perplexed.

“Well, the plan was to kill the Pagans and save you.” Tracy rolled her eyes, turning away from the face that was a constant reminder of her family’s death.

“Great, you’ve a tremendous help, Winchester. Now we’ll at least die together. Maybe our souls will look better to the angels than yours, and we all get free passes to heaven while you burn in hell where you belong.”

“Hey, what the hell’s your deal?” Krissy cut her off, shoving her aside to give Sam a pat on the back. “Thanks for coming Sam. Five more minutes, we’d a been chopped liver. Hope Dean hurries up.” The tall, long-haired man gave a huff, as Freya slowly descended into the pit.

“Yeah, better bury that hope quick. Dean’s not on this hunt with me.” Now _that_ was a surprise, even to Tracy. Maybe the older Winchester finally got some sense knocked into him. In any case, the minute Krissy and the other two weren’t in sight, she was putting sixty rounds into demon-boy.

“Wait, what?” Krissy asked. “Why?”

“Went our separate ways.” Sam said quietly. “Doesn’t matter, get behind me. All of you. I’ll stall her, and you run up out of the pit and try and escape.” Tracy raised an eyebrow.

Sam Winchester, martyring himself?

Not the move she’d call for the guy who triggered the Apocalypse.

By the time the goddess was in front of them, the four younger hunters had listened to Sam and gotten behind him, and he extended one arm (attempting to keep the broken one at his side.) in a gesture of protection. Freya smirked slightly, green eyes twinkling.

“You can fool those children into thinking you can protect them, Sam Winchester. But we both know you’re in no condition to take me on, even without the broken arm. The barn’s warded, bound to my life. As long as I’m breathing, your little kiddies can’t escape.” There was a pause, and Sam said nothing. Shrugging, Frey continued. “I should be thanking you. What with the Valkyries dead, I’ll resume the fight later and claim 12 souls instead of 6.” At this, Winchester gave a chuckle (kinda made Tracy’s skin crawl, as it was devoid of all humor)

“Yeah. Like 12 souls is enough for you.” Freya’s smile wavered, as apparently Sam struck a nerve. “Back in the day you used to get, what, at least 1,000 souls a year? Even when you split half the profit with the Valkyries, you got your worship, and you got your warriors.” The goddess’ nostrils flared. “Now, though, you’re a pathetic slumming street rat who picks up people who aren’t even really warriors, and makes them fight to the death.” With a snarl, Freya’s hand shot out, and she wrapped it around Sam’s throat.

“I would not be so snarky, Winchester. A slave should learn to avoid giving attitude to their future master.” Sam gave another huff (was that his way of laughing?)

“Right, I’m going to be your slave. I’m not going to fight, so you should either kill me now or quit thinking that you’re going to get me under your thumb.” The Goddess gave a hearty laugh (almost as sickening as Winchester’s chuckle.)

“Oh, Sam. I have no desire to kill you.” She said, drawing him close. “You see, demons are chattery creatures, especially when you’re pummeling their faces in. They might not have _seen_ what went down in the Cage, but they sure as hell _heard_ it. I’m going to make you my servant, and fill my desires. You’ll cook when I ask, fold my clothes, catch my next kills. When I have a desire for some screaming, I’ll carve into you. When I want sex, I’ll take it from you.” She raised an eyebrow, grinning maliciously. “You’re very used to those last two things, at least.”

“Go to Hell.” Sam snarled, attempting to kick her. The Goddess giggled.

“You’ve already beat me to it, sweetie. Word is there are two archangels down there _dying_ to see you.” Tracy frowned. What the fuck did that mean? “I can always hand you over to the demons. They’d be happy to take you back. After all, you’re practically part of the family.”

“You know, for the Chief Female Goddess of your Pantheon, you’re not all that interesting.” Sam laughed, his unbroken arm waving slightly in the direction of the kids, clearly signifying the message ‘run away’. “I’ve met goddesses who were less important in their religions who were far more interesting than you’ll ever be.” With another growl, Freya body-slammed Sam to the ground (several cracks being heard.)

“I’m going to carve you open, Winchester.” The goddess warned. “Make you scream like the worthless bitch you are in front of all these wee kiddies.” Leaning into his ear, Tracy barely heard her whisper the next thing. “And, when I’m finished, I’ll fix you up and start all over again.” The Goddess got onto his stomach, straddling him while she fiddled with her utility belt. Finally heeding his message, Tracy and the others began to back away (Aidan helping her limp), and had successfully crawled out of the pit, and were now hiding behind a stack of hay in the barn, looking down at Sam from where they were. “Where do we start, Winchester?”

Sam refused to answer, just looking at the four of them, with wide hazel eyes, begging them to run.

So, they did. The goddess didn’t care, because she knew they couldn’t escape. She saw Sam as the eminent threat, since the children had been unprepared for facing her.

“Answer me.” Sam didn’t. The goddess gave a sound of irritation, and a flash of silver zoomed down on Winchester. A scream echoed  through the barn, and Tracy and Aidan turned back to see a pool of streaming from Winchester’s head, a knife sunken into the ground against it, and an ear lying on the floor in front of him. Despite all she felt for him, Tracy was practically sick to her stomach when she saw Sam roll around in pain.

“Guess you have a hearing problem.” Freya laughed. Watching in fear, Tracy saw her wiggle the knife out and bring it to his chest. “Maybe we should strip off a few layers.” There was a sound of fabric tearing, and from where she was on the other side of the pit she could see Winchester’s chest. The goddess gave a sigh. “Such a beautiful form. Maybe a few more layers wouldn’t hurt.”

Another blood-curdling scream ripped through the barn, and Tracy saw the goddess pick up a strip of something bloody (that she strongly thought was human skin) and place it in her mouth. All the hate in the world she felt for Winchester couldn’t stop her from practically vomiting in her mouth. Sure, the guy was the reason her family was dead, but this?

This was pure torture.

“We need to think of something.” Josephine whispered, inching towards Aidan and Tracy, along with Krissy. “We can’t just let him get tortured like this.” Tracy was about to open her mouth and say that Winchester more than had this coming to him, but decided against it. He had tried saving them, and had already saved Tracy once before, so she figured she owed him one time before offing him.

“But what?” Asked Aidan. “We brought stakes to kill Vamps, and holy water to burn demons, but we’re in no way armed to take on a pagan goddess, especially when we don’t know what kills her.”

“That tree-spear that Sam was using would probably work.” Krissy said, her eyes flicking throughout the barn. “If only we could see where he dropped it.”

“When we find it, don’t stab her right away,” Tracy stated suddenly. The other three gave her incredulous looks.

“Why do you hate him that much?” Krissy hissed, glaring at her friend. The black hunter shook her head.

“Idiot will have to tell you himself later, but I’m serious. She cut off his ear and a piece of skin. We need to stab her once she’s healed him. She said she’d do that. If it’s just things like cuts or broken bones, we can gank her, but we have no way of getting Sam to a hospital and reattaching his ear or skin in time.” Krissy, Josephine and Aidan looked uncomfortable with the plan, to say the least, but they nodded. The four of them scanned around the barn, looking for the spear. Meanwhile, the goddess was making a ticking noise with her tongue.

“You’re far too overdressed, even without these upper layers.” Freya said, hauling the remnants of Sam’s three layers of shirts (jacket, flannel, and a t-shirt) out from beneath him. “Let’s get you down to skin, shall we?” There was more shredding of fabric, and Tracy felt herself turn away. The goddess was laughing again, and the more Tracy heard it, the more she wanted to rip the bitch’s head off. “I don’t have the same _supplies_ the Archangels did to have fun down there, but I think this could suffice.”

The violent scream, and the imagery in her mind as Tracy pictured where the goddess had put it, were too much for her stomach. Falling to the floor, she felt a twinge from her broken knee as her stomach’s contents emptied themselves out of her throat. The other three were quick to circle around her, comforting her as she put a hand to her mouth, in case more came up, and fastened her eyes shut when she felt tears falling down her cheek.

How ironic, that, not five minutes ago, she sold her soul to do something like that to Winchester for eternity.

Her thoughts were interrupted by a pained laugh rising weakly from Sam’s throat, which made her feel even sicker.

“You know, for a goddess who claims to know her way around a knife…” He trailed off. “You’re sticking that in _all_ the wrong places.” There was a sickening sound, which Tracy usually associated with fiddling with raw meat, and another scream, this one impossibly high for a guy like Winchester, before silence fell.

Tracy felt her stomach drop. Was Winchester-?

A maniacal laughter cut off her thought process, and her heart froze.

“You know, I might actually get off on this.” Sam said hoarsely. “You pale in comparison to what I’ve experienced.” There was a growl of frustration from the goddess.

“All the torture has done nothing to slow that incessant tongue of yours. Perhaps I should fix that.”

Another squelching sound and an open-mouthed scream followed in quick succession. Tracy sank to her feet, putting a hand to her mouth. She was rapidly losing awareness of anything around her, fastening her eyes shut and trying to tune out the sounds around her, in the hopes that she could stop seeing what she was seeing in her mind.

An ethereal sound whistled through the air, flooding Tracy with a sense of calm. There was silence for a minute, and she heard silent padding, which gently faded, several more cries of pain from Sam, followed by a succession of shouts and an unearthly wail (that was definitely not Winchester).

“It’s okay, Sam. It’s okay.” She heard Krissy’s voice say. But Tracy refused to open her eyes, refused to get up, refused to picture Sam Winchester. Refused to feel pity for the man who started the Apocalypse.

“Trace,” Josephine’s voice this time, much closer. Tracy could feel her friend’s soft hands and warm breath on her. Slowly opening her eyes, she was helped to her feet, and they made their way out of the pile of hay, and back into the pit, where Sam Winchester was immobile on the floor, Aidan standing over him with Krissy crouching and trying to coax him up.

He was completely naked, soaked in his own blood, his clothes in ruins beneath him, but thankfully most of his injuries had healed. It seems the Goddess Freya had healed him, like Tracy thought she would, but had immediately carved a giant _X_ into his torso after doing so.

Tracy felt her eyes trail downward across his body, but after reaching a certain spot she averted her gaze. Whether to preserve the man’s modesty, or out of disgust for looking at the inhuman hunter at all, she didn’t know. She just knew she couldn’t look back to him, what with his face locked in a combination of shame, apathy, and fear.

Shifting her gaze to the Pagan, she saw that Freya had been impaled through the heart by the spear-sapling, her body afflicted with what appeared to be frostbite.

“Nice job with the spear, Krissy.” Josephine commented, trying to relieve the silence as Aidan gave Winchester his white jacket to wrap around his middle, before helping him to his feet.

“It’s all really thanks to Sam.” Krissy said awkwardly, shifting from one foot to another as she removed the spear. “We would have had no way to kill her if he hadn’t shown up with it.” Tracy saw the girl’s eyes meet Sam’s for a minute, as if to thank him and comfort him all at once.

“We need to burn the bodies.” Sam said suddenly, his voice hoarse.

 _Definitely from the screaming,_ Tracy thought quietly. With Aidan’s Jacket secured around his middle, the gigantic hunter dragged Freya’s body up with one arm, effortlessly, as if she were a rag doll, and slugged her over his shoulder. Walking over to the closest Valkyrie, he bent over, wincing slightly, and put her on his other shoulder. He turned back to the other four hunters.

“Aidan, I need you to help me move the Valkyries. Krissy and Jo, you help Tracy up the ditch, out of the barn, and into your car, then start digging behind the barn. We need a massive pit to burn them all.” There was silence, as the four younger hunters noted how he was speaking with such exhaustion, yet maintained such authority. Sam started climbing out of the pit (Tracy noticed his feet were a little bloody), before turning back look at his speechless companions. “Now?”

Pushed into action, Jo and Krissy appeared on either side of Tracy, and they made the trek back to Tracy’s 1991 silver Eagle Summit (originally her parent’s) that was parked right in front of the barn (not exactly conspicuous, but still). Alongside it was a navy Cadillac, which had not been there when they went in, so guesses were it was Sam’s, despite the fact that Tracy swore she recognized it. It bore enough of a resemblance to the other car the Winchesters had. What was it? A Ram? A Sable? A Stag?...Something named after a type of deer.

They set her down in the backseat of her car, keeping the door open as she watched them pop her trunk and retrieve the shovels she carries. As they disappeared behind the barn, Tracy sat in silence. Sam and Aidan emerged from the barn with two bodies each, placing them by the door they had exited from, before returning inside. They were out again after a few minutes, Sam with two bodies and Aidan with only one. Placing them on the pile, the pair of them suddenly made their way over.

“Need help?” She asked. Winchester looked at her, his face expressionless. The once-white jacket, which was still zipped up and tied firmly to his middle, was now red with his blood. The blood not dripping down his body or seeping into the fabric was dried and caked, on his body, on his face, in his hair.

“How are you going to help us?” Aidan inquired, a look of disbelief on his face. “Hobble around?” Eyes narrowing, she glared at her friend.

“I have a knife, Aidan. Maybe I could cut your balls off.” She snapped. This drew another one of Winchester’s huffs.

“I can help you.” He offered weakly. “If you can stand my touch.” Tracy paused. On the one hand, despite the fact that Winchester had just been tortured trying to save them, she still felt a heavy level of hatred towards him. On the other, if he claimed he could fix her leg, she should accept his help. But, the question was if she needed help more than he did.

Deliberating for around a minute, she finally gave a begrudging nod. Sam walked over to his trunk (allowing for her to see flashes of black that ran down his back), popping the trunk and removing a black backpack. Closing the trunk, he placed the bag on top, unzipping it to and removing several plastic bags with herbs, jars of unidentified liquids, and a mortar and pestle. Wordlessly, robotically, he crushed and grinded the herbs, poured the liquids into the powdered combinations, and mixed a bit more.

Walking over to her, he got on his knees in front of her. Handing her the mortar, he reached for her jean leg and, withdrawing a knife, ripped it so her broken leg was exposed.

“Hey!” She protested, as Sam tore off the bottom part of the jean leg. When he didn’t respond, Tracy gave a huff, muttering. “You better pay for that, Winchester.” Taking the mortar back from her, he dipped his hand in it, before running the substance down her leg.

“ _Cum potentia infinita…_ ” Sam began to whisper. “ _Et scientiam antiquissimam_ ,” His hand was hovering over Tracy’s leg. “ _Corpus curare potestatibus invoco_.” He began to wave his hand back and forth now.  “ _Pone cutem superpositam musculus…. Pone sanguis in venis………._ ” Tracy leaned down to watch as the cuts on her legs sealed up “ _Nullum relinquam fractis ossibus…_ ” With a sharp _crack_ , she felt her fractured leg snap into place. “ _Nullum relinquam caro signata_.”

Tracy’s eyes widened. She knew rituals as much as the next hunter. The basics: sigils, wardings, summoning, banishments, exorcisms, etcetera. She knew basic use of spells. Being able to use ingredients, and wave a hand over an injury and fix it, was far beyond the power of a normal human being. It was almost like-

“Are you a Witch?” Aidan blurted out, looking as shocked as Tracy felt. Sam smiled humorlessly.

“I guess that’s the proper term.” He said, getting to his feet. Looking to Tracy, he extended a hand to help her up.

Like hell she was going to touch him after that freakshow.

“I’m fine, thanks.” She said quickly, albeit a little roughly. Shrugging, Sam popped open his trunk and returned the backpack and all it’s items inside, before withdrawing a large plastic tarp, an oil canister, three shovels, and a matchbox.

“Take these.” He ordered, handing them the oil, shovels, and matches, before walking over to the barn, where the piled-up bodies of the pagan goddesses lay. Unrolling the tarp next to them, he moved to the other side of the pile, and, with several good shoves, had successfully moved all of the corpses onto it.

Gesturing for them to follow him, Winchester began to drag the tarp behind him. Making their way around the barn, they found Krissy and Josephine, sweaty and red-faced, standing in a rather sizeable pit

“There you are,” Krissy panted, seeing Sam and Aidan. “We thought you-” She went sharply silent, seeing Tracy up on two legs, unsupported. “How are you walking? Your leg’s broken.”

“ _Was_ broken. I fixed her up.” Sam corrected. Relinquishing the tarp, the long-haired man walked over to them. Leaning down and offering a hand, he hauled Krissy out of the pit, before doing the same for Josephine. Moving back to the tarp, he grabbed it by the side furthest away from the pit, and lifted it up effortlessly, causing the corpses of the Pagans to roll and tumble into the hole, one landing on top of the other. “Light it up.”

Moving into action, Aidan took the oil canister and dumped it liberally into the pit, being sure to cover all the bodies. Following behind him, Tracy opened the match box, removed a match, and struck it, before tossing it in. As the fire began to rise, Winchester grabbed a shovel from Krissy, and used a point of it to cut his hand (Tracy wrinkled her nose having the freak spill his blood on her nice shovels), before extending the same hand over the flames.

“ _Per meum sanguine infernalis, et scientiam antiquissimam …._ ” He began to chant, as blood dripped down. The flames flickered brighter. “ _Invocabo munia antiqua invocare mutatio.._ ” Tracy observed as Josephine and Krissy looked on in shock. She and Aidan had seen Winchester’s healing trick, so this was not as shocking. “ _Cogo ossa assimilare cinis……._ ” Heat began to rise, smoke permeating throughout the air. “ _Cogo sanguine arderent quasi fumus…._ ” From the bodies, red smoke emerged. As the stench hit her nose, Tracy noticed it had a peculiar coppery scent about it, almost like blood. “ _Et carnem reditura ad pulverem, deputans Creatore Nostro_.” There was a loud explosion, and Winchester forced his hand down. The smokes, red and black, were sucked out of the air and forced back down into the pit. Looking to the older hunter, Tracy watched as he made a clenching gesture with his fist, and the flames were extinguished.

The bodies were gone.

Another silence hung in the air, with the four younger hunters gazed in awe (or fear) at Sam. He was panting, sweat covering him like a sheath of dew over his own drying blood. Focusing on his face, which was lined with exhaustion, Tracy frowned slightly.

“Winchester, your nose is bleeding.” Eyeing Tracy, he wiped away the blood and moved over to the pile of dirt. There was no noise again, except for his grunts and shoves, the sound of the shovel sinking into the dirt, and the raining of dirt down into the pit. This lasted for around another few minutes, before they moved to join him.

Within another five minutes, the pit was gone, filled to the brim with fresh dirt. Sam made the trek, the others following.

“Guess I’ll see you around.” He said weakly, popping open his trunk and putting his three shovels, the tarp, the match box and the oil canister back.

“Sam, we can’t let you drive. You look like you’re about to pass out.” Krissy argued, resting a hand on his shoulder. The man blinked in fear, pulling away.

“I’m fine, Krissy.” He insisted. “I’ve had to drive worse.” That…actually wasn’t comforting or satisfying to Tracy, despite how much she thought it would be. And Krissy wasn’t having it.

“Let us stay with you for a while. We can even go back to the hotel you’re staying at and get some spare clothes and stuff, and you can stay in one of our rooms. Tracy, Jo and I will share, and you stay with Aidan.” Tracy opened her mouth to protest, but instead bit her lip in pain when Krissy gave her a sharp blow to the knee, and a pointed glare. Sighing, Sam gave a weak shrug, handing her keys.

“Fine, I guess.” Smiling in victory, the youngest of the hunters grabbed them from her friend’s hand, walked around and slid into the driver’s seat of the Navy Blue Cadillac, slamming the door behind her.

Tracy felt her blood boil. Winchester had just proved he was dabbling in some dark shit. Regardless if he had also saved them, she wouldn’t trust Mr. _Apocalypse Now_ if her life depended on it. Krissy, unfortunately, trusted Sam too much, and Aidan and Josephine trusted her judgment as their unofficial-official leader too much to be wary of Sam. So it was up to her to be the man’s watchdog, because she wouldn’t hesitate to pull the trigger.

In fact, she might be too _un_ hesitant.

So, she had to deliberate which was the lesser of two evils. Having Winchester’s blood all over the backseat of her car, or trusting Aidan or Josephine to drive it. Tracy sighed, already knowing the answer.

The car crashing, she could fix.

Scum like Sam Winchester could never be cleaned out.

“I’ll go with you.” She said, trying to keep the irritation out of her voice. Tossing her keys to Josephine, she gave the girl a warning gesture. “If you crash it, I _will_ kill you.” Opening the back right door of Winchester’s car, she gave him a pointed look. “Get in.” She commanded. Huffing in amusement, Winchester obeyed, scrunching so he could fit. Climbing into the shotgun seat, she glared in the rearview mirror as the man stretched out in the backseat, evidently trying to relax. Krissy, who was obviously pissed by Tracy’s lack of trust, turned the key in the ignition.

“Sam, what do we do about the vics?” She asked, as Josephine and Aidan led the way back off the farm and onto the interstate in Tracy’s Summit. Winchester’s heavy breathing stopped for a minute.

“My phone’s in the glove compartment.” He answered, his voice hoarse and sleepy. “Call 911; tell them you heard screaming in the vicinity of here.” Wordlessly, Tracy popped the compartment open and did just that. The operator had thanked her, and informed them that they would be at that location within the hour. She hung up, stowing the phone back where she found it. There was another pause, the air heavy with tension between her and Krissy, and Winchester too exhausted to make conversation. Even for Tracy, who could be silent for hours, and who was currently in a car with the most despicable human on Earth (who, she might add, she did not care to speak to), this was too uncomfortable.

“So, Winchester.” She began, ignoring Krissy’s glares. “How’d you find out that Pagans were behind the disappearances?” There was a pause.

“Runes. Norse.” He said slowly. “Carved in at all the sights of disappearance. They all had similar meanings. One for warrior, one for Mother Goddess, one for strength, and one for man. Some of the people witnessing the abductions swore that a large falcon swooped down and attacked the victims, and others remember the captors were driving motorcycles, that turned out to be Honda Valkyrie Runes.” He gave a weak laugh. “Pagans. So terribly narcissistic.” There was a pause.

“What was the connection?” Krissy inquired. “We couldn’t find any.” Sam chuckled.

“That’s why hunting when you’re too young to pass for an authority investigating the crime is a bad idea.” He said.

“Get to the point, Winchester.” Tracy snapped. More silence.

“There was a PTSD-ridden veteran. Pair of cops, with several conduct issues in the past, and the perp they were bringing in, whose record was covered with a history of violence and assault. Three athletes known for participating usually in particularly violent sports, some of the events so brutal that they had to be underground or illict. An expert in wielding medieval weapons. And, my most favorite of all, the local head of the NRA, who was a Civil War enthusiast. He participates in reenactments.” Tracy felt herself frown.

“So…they were violent?” She asked. Behind her, she was pretty sure Sam gave a nod. “Why did they get abducted? And how’d you figure out who was behind it?”

“It was a bit of a head scratcher. Couldn’t find any Norse lore on abducted violent people, but then I remembered attending a lecture on Norse culture with my girlfriend when I was in college. She was really into that sort of thing-”

“You had a girlfriend?” Krissy inquired, almost in unison with Tracy, who asked “You went to college?” The two of them looked back at him (taking eyes off the road was perhaps not the smartest decision Krissy had made.) to see him smile sadly.

“Stanford U. Her name was Jess Moore, we were together for about the best year and 3/4ths of my life.” Tracy could hear pain layered in his voice, and not just from the torture he endured earlier. Turning to face the front (along with Krissy, thank God), she was really tempted to ask what happened to Jess, but she instinctively already knew the answer. She also was shocked that the idiot who triggered the apocalypse went to one of the most prestigious schools in the world, and was now hunting when he could probably have any job he wanted, but said nothing about that. Perhaps it was also a sore subject.

“So, what did you remember from the lectures?” Tracy asked, attempting to feign interest to pull Sam’s mind away from his girlfriend. Looking in the rearview mirror, she saw Sam shake himself, as if warding away the bad feelings.

“The Nords were a culture rich in war, even if they weren’t as sophisticated as others of the time.” The man explained. “Their religion basically teaches of two options for death. Either you die of old age or sickness, and you go to the miserable cold afterlife of Hel (that’s one l, not two), or you die in battle, and you go to the kingdom of the gods. The Valkyries were the servants of Odin, and they were called ‘Choosers of the Slain’, because they picked who would die in Battle. Half the souls of dead warriors would go to Odin’s warrior paradise, while the other half go to Folkvangr, the paradise of Freya. The warriors became undead servants of the gods they served. Freya was said to be able to turn into a falcon, which explains the falcon seen at some of the abduction sights, and the Valkyries literally road Valkyries and kidnapped who they were choosing to fight to the death. I figured they wouldn’t take too many, because that would be too difficult for even gods to hide, but they’d need at least 12, because it’s important in numerology to their culture. So, they’d want 13, to have at least one survivor. The dead’s souls would be bound to their bodies and reanimated, half going to Freya, half to the Valkyries. The one still kicking gets eaten.”

“So, how’d you figure out the location?” Krissy asked after a beat. Sam shrugged.

“The farmland here’s abandoned, but it’s pretty fertile. Freya was one of the Vanir in Norse Mythology, Gods of Nature.” There was another pause. “How’d _you_ figure it out, if you didn’t know who you’re dealing with?”

“Just checked the nearest abandoned location.” Tracy answered. “That’s where vamps and demons usually are.” There was a pause, as Winchester gave another sigh.

“I’m sorry you walked right in. I didn’t think you’d find it before they had all thirteen people. I was hoping I could get the weapons I needed before you had caught up with me.” Tracy raised an eyebrow.

“How’d you know we were on the trail?” She demanded, turning to stare at the backseat. Sam smiled.

“Four young kids don’t really stand much of a chance at not leaving a trace. My motel room was next door to from yours, and you didn’t even notice.” That at least explained why she recognized the car. She had seen it every time they left and entered the motel for the past few days.

“Why didn’t you come and say anything?” Krissy demanded, anger in her voice.

“Tracy has made it pretty clear how she feels about me, so I thought it best to stay out of her way.” Sam said evenly. Tracy’s eyes narrowed, as she felt the almost accusatory tone in his voice.

“You say that like I have no reason not to trust you.” She spat, glaring back at him. “You should stay out of hunting, Winchester. You’ll only get everyone else hurt.”

“Hey!” Krissy growled. “What the hell is your problem!? I know you, Trace, and you’ve been a total cunt in half the things you’re saying to Sam. What gives?” Tracy glared at her.

“Why not ask dear _Sam_ what the fuck he did. You might understand better.” Frowning, Krissy’s eyes met the enormous hunter’s in the rearview, as they sat in silence for a moment.

“It was a stupid mistake.” Sam said in a hollow voice. “I trusted someone I shouldn’t have, and I did something I should’ve known was wrong. It’s done, it can’t be undone. The damage spread far and wide, and cost many people many things, and I have to live with the knowledge it was my fault every day.” God. Just so much more pain in that voice than Tracy could bear. “I’m sorry about your parents. It’s my fault, Tracy. And an apology won’t bring them back. It won’t make you hate me any less; it won’t make anyone hate me any less. Believe me, I know.” Tracy said nothing, turning to the window to hide the tears stinging in her eyes. _Fuck him. What did he know?_

* * *

They had spent the rest of the ride in silence. The four young hunters filed into the room that Sam was using when they got back to the motel, while Sam showered. Tracy and Josephine were on lounging on the couch in the corner, while Aidan and Krissy were sitting on the bed (which, oddly enough had belts on either side at about the arm’s length, as a form of restraint). They had remained in silence, since Aidan and Jo had been able to pick up quickly on the fact that the other two girls were shooting daggers at each other.

“So…” Aidan began awkwardly. “Are we just going to not talk about the hella powerful magic Fabio in there was using?” No one said anything. “Plus, why he has this kinky S & M thing going on with his bed?” He added, fiddling with the straps. Tracy snorted, bitterness rising in her heart.

“Well, Krissy feels so strongly about Winchester, so we wouldn’t want to piss her off, now would we?” She spat.

“Fuck off, Tracy.” Krissy barked. “Whatever Sam did to make you hate him so much, it sounds like he’s more than paid for it.” Tracy gave a laugh.

“He’ll pay for it when he’s dead in the ground. Don’t fucking tell me my parents’ deaths don’t mean anything, Krissy. You didn’t just walk away from the vamp that iced your Dad, so you have no right to tell me what I can and can’t feel.” There was a pause, as Tracy felt all three sets of eyes turn to her. Krissy’s face was white with rage, as she got to her feet.

“Go to Hell.” She snarled. “Victor actually _killed_ our parents, or at least put the order out on them. Sam has nothing to do with your family’s death, you bitch. Leave him alone.”

“He has _everything_ to do with it.” Tracy felt heat rising in her face. “ _He_ even admits that. And his _own brother_ ditched him, Kriss. How is that not sending up any red flags for you?”

“It’s none of our business.” The younger girl insisted, her fists clenched. Tracy laughed.

“Ever think Dean left because his brother’s becoming something we’re supposed to hunt? He healed a broken leg that should have kept me off my feet for weeks, in five seconds! He made seven bodies vanish! That sounds exactly like the type of thing we hunt, Kriss!” They were nose to nose now, with Aidan and Josephine backing away.

“He’s human!” Krissy growled.

“I wouldn’t be so sure…” Josephine said timidly. Krissy jerked her head to glare at her friend.

“Really, Jo? You’re gonna take _her_ side, after Sam saved our asses?” The other black girl held up her hands defensively.

“I’m just remembering his incantation, don’t bite my head off.” Jo argued. Krissy’s shoulders visibly loosened, becoming less defensive.

“What do you mean, his incantation?” She asked. Josephine raised an eyebrow, as if she couldn’t believe Krissy didn’t know. She looked directly at Tracy (which Tracy was not comfortable with) and then to Aidan.

“Am I the only one who understood his incantation?” The girl inquired, sounding slightly annoyed.

“Probably.” Aidan said with a shrug. Josephine gave a groan of frustration.

“The first verse was ‘ _Per meum sanguine infernalis, et scientiam antiquissimam._ ’ It literally means, ‘By my infernal blood, and ancient knowledge.’ And we never use the word ‘infernal’ in a spell unless we’re referring to a demon.”

“See?” Tracy said triumphantly, extending a hand to Josephine. “He’s not what you think he is, Krissy.”

“That doesn’t make him anymore of what _you_ think he is.” Countered Krissy. Tracy gave a shrug, walking over to a pile of bags that must have been Winchester’s.

“One way to find out.”

“You can’t look through his stuff!” Krissy protested, walking over to her. She gave a snort.

“Uh, yes I can, because if he poses a threat-”

“Kinda violates our first and fourth Amendment rights, Tracy.” Her blood froze. Turning around slowly (Krissy doing the same alongside her), she saw Sam Winchester leaning his head out of the bathroom door, shower still running and steam pouring out through the gap. His hair was soaking wet, and the dirt and blood was visibly gone from what they could see of his face and chest, though the _X_   Freya had carved in was still there.

“I thought you were taking a shower.” Tracy muttered, somewhat embarrassed and somewhat terrified. Sam’s eyebrows raised, almost as if asking a question..

“I was. But I decided to keep the water on when I stepped out.”

“So you were spying on us.” She sneered, glad to have some proof Winchester was hiding something. Sam huffed.

“Yeah.” He admitted. “See you’re taking a leaf out of my book.” That kind of stung, partially because it was a fair point, but mostly because it was comparing her and Winchester, and because it made Aidan, Josephine, and Tracy snigger. “I wouldn’t open those. They’re warded to make anyone who opens them without my say-so vomit violently for 30 minutes. Don’t think you’d want that.” Dropping the bags, Tracy slowly walked back to the couch, feeling Winchester’s eyes burning into the back of her neck. “I’ll be right out.”

The door closed again, and they heard the shower water turn off. After a few seconds, Sam emerged, clothed in sweats and a constricting, slightly damp white t-shirt, his muscles exposed. Though Tracy hated to admit it, he was actually kind of hot.

Of course, not being human was kind of a deal-breaker.

“So,” She began, stepping in front of him. “Talk.” He groaned slightly, his face lined with exhaustion.

“Can I at least get, I don’t know, 45 minutes of sleep?” He asked, his voice dripping with sarcasm. Tracy’s eyes narrowed.

“Why should I let you? You might try and run away, or kill us.” She received perhaps the bitchiest look she had ever seen in her life.

“Yeah, cause that makes perfect sense when you don’t stand a chance against me and I just saved your asses.” He grumbled. Seeing that she was about ready to yell at him, Sam made a pleading gesture “Please, Tracy.” He begged. “I’m exhausted. I’ve been going on 113 straight hours now, and I’ve drank so many triple red-eyes my blood’s running with it.” Tracy’s mouth slammed shut, as she gave him a curious look.

“113 hours?” She asked. Sam gave a sleepy nod. The girl chuckled nervously. “But that would mean you haven’t slept for almost 5 straight days.” She pointed out. He gave another nod.

“It’s as pleasant as it sounds. But I had to stay up.” There was a brief pause. “You know, in case the Pagans tried to take you for their ritual.” This was an obvious lie, but Tracy shrugged. Her friends were out the door, heading back to their rooms. No point in fighting it.

“Fine.” She relented. “Just going to use your bathroom.” Sam looked ready to protest, tense and on edge, but she shot an accusatory look, as if daring him to reveal whatever he was hiding. The hunter decided against saying anything.

Entering the bathroom, Tracy could see why Sam was trying to keep her out. Beneath the odor of too much Febreeze, it smelled awful, as if something died in her. Poking her head in the still-dewy shower, she saw nothing of suspicion. She even fiddled her hand in the drain and the showerhead, and behind the temperature handles. Nothing out of the ordinary.The sink had no cabinets, just a long pipe and the tub where the water fell. There were no hex-bags or occult items hidden in it either. The toilet, clearly the source of the stench (definitely identifiable as vomit now) hid no surprises, except for the burning sensation in her eyes when she lifted up the lid.

The corner between the door and the toilet definitely caught her eye. It was packed high with Kleenex boxes and toilet paper, and it looked like Sam Winchester was bleeding through them.

Quite literally, as a matter of fact.

The trashcan was overflowing with tissues, all stained deep red, some of them completely crusted over from being covered in blood.

Tight-jawed, Tracy walked out of the bathroom, not even pretending to flush. She didn’t say a word to Sam Winchester as she walked out of his motel room and made the few steps back to hers. While Josephine had been sleeping in her room up until this point, it was Krissy who awaited her when she got in, arms folded and sitting on the bed Josephine had used.

“Don’t try anything sneaky to Sam.” She warned, tucking under the covers. “I’ll be watching you.” Tracy said nothing, wordlessly stripping and redressing into an undershirt and shorts, before climbing into her bed.

She vaguely recalled that Sam’s nose had been bleeding earlier, after he cast the spell to dissolve the corpses. She also knew it was unlikely that any of the tissues had been used since they had gotten back, as they were bone-dry, which ruled out the idea Sam used them to wipe the remaining blood away from his chest wound.

Staring at the ceiling, Tracy tried to get to sleep, but felt two questions haunt her.

_Was Sam Winchester dying?_

_Did she care?_

She felt kind of disgruntled that the answer to both of those was most likely yes.

* * *

 Fire was surrounding her, licking up and down her body.

 _“Come play with me, Sammy.”_ A voice crooned, layered with multiple tones and speakers, an ethereal echoing occurring after. From the flames, a young woman, not much past 20, appeared. She was in a pale nightgown, and her long blond hair floated serenely in the flames.

Across her stomach was a dark red stain.

 _“Don’t you want to play with me, Sammy?”_ She smiled, the voice speaking through her, holding out a plate of chocolate-chip cookies. _“I baked you cookies. You used to love my cookies, didn’t you?”_

 _“Please, don’t bring Jess into this,”_  Tracy heard a second voice, Sam’s, whimper, as it emerged from her mouth. “ _Torture me all you want, but not through her.”_

A searing lash of heat whipped her across the face.

 _“You have the arrogance to demand of us?!”_ A third voice, similar to the first, roared. It was coming from Sam’s brother, Dean, who bore a whip. _“You have no right to talk to us, you filthy beast!”_

 _“Oh, Michael.”_ The first voice chuckled, the body speaking through it shifting into that of a short, vaguely ethnic woman with dark hair and a sarcastic look in her eyes, which flickered black for an instant. _“Never one for games, now, are you?”_

Tracy wanted to puke as the demonic woman placed a freezing cold hand against her, and began to make it’s way down her chest.

 _“What you consider ‘games’, Lucifer, I find appalling.”_ Dean _(Michael?)_ grunted, before changing into a middle-aged man with black hair and salt and pepper scruff, the whip turning into a spear. _“Our father said to love humans, but you take it too far. And this creature is not even fully what our father intended us to care for. Part of it is at home here, in the Pit he created for the worst of souls.”_

A burning spike was shoved right into her chest.

 _“Mmm..”_ Lucifer nodded, changing forms into another blond woman. She was like, like the first one (Jess), blond and in a nightgown and bleeding in the middle, but she was older, anywhere from twenty-five to forty. _“It was rather pleasing to watch how quickly Sammy’s other brother, the vessel you used, begged for us to spare him from torment. How he wasn't a part of the plan of 'these freaks', and how they 'aren't his brothers'. Much more interesting to note how he was willing to do anything we said.”_

The cold hand was lifted, before it was placed Tracy’s lower back, slipping lower and lower.

She began to cry along with Sam as the pure loathsome chill slipped inside her body.

 _“Adam is an obedient little monkey, who questions nothing. I thought Dean Winchester would be similar, once we threatened to involve the youngest of them. But apparently the Winchesters think they can outsmart us.”_ Michael said, forcing his hand into Tracy’s chest.

From where the puncture was made, a fist had been lodged up all the way to her throat, emitting fire and burning her alive from the inside. A ripping gesture was made, and Tracy could no longer hear Sam’s voice crying and begging, only unending agony and asphyxiation, feeling like she was drowning in her own blood.

 _“Really, Michael?”_ Lucifer gave a laugh. _“Ripping out his vocal chords? That’s useless when his form is just a personification of his body, not the real thing.”_

 _“That may be so.”_ Michael said, tossing the bloody pieces aside. _“But he can certainly feel it.”_ There was a pause, as Lucifer chuckled.

 _“Touché, brother.”_ The freezing hand was withdrawn, as Lucifer morphed into Dean. _“But I prefer to hear his voice beg, rather than just his mind.”_ A snap, and the pain (of losing her vocal chords, at least) was gone.

 _“Please, don’t do this.”_ Sam cried. _“Not in Dean’s body. Please.”_ Lucifer smiled playfully.

 _“You’ve already had one brother force himself on you.”_ The Devil said. _“Why not the other?”_

Lucifer-Dean disappeared to one side. For a few moments of relief, Tracy thought he was gone.

Then she felt the familiar, frost-bitten sensation, except impossibly enormous. It filled her, violating her, the most brutal agony.

 _“PLEASE!”_ Sam cried. _“PLEASE, STOP!”_ A wicked chuckle could be heard in Tracy’s ear.

 _“Don’t you want to let big brother show how much he loves you, Sam?”_ Lucifer cooed, his filthy cold hand run down Tracy’s back. A forceful shove ignited pain throughout Tracy’s body, and drew a scream out of Sam.

 _“Please God, let me die, let me die….”_ Sam’s voice pleaded, coming out of Tracy’s mouth as tears rolled down her cheeks.

 _“HOW DARE YOU, FILTHY ABOMINATION!”_ Michael snarled, body morphing into Sam’s. _“YOU, THE SCUM OF THE EARTH, ARE NOT EVEN WORTHY OF UTTERING OUR FATHER’S NAME.”_ Opening his mouth, Michael-Sam began to bleed out an eerie white light through every orifice. Dread knotted in the pit of her stomach.

 _“No,”_ Sam began to beg weakly. _“Please, I’m sorry; I know I’m not worthy. You don’t have to….”_ Lucifer chuckled.

 _“Too late, Sammy boy.”_ He said, the same freezing sensation continually ripping Tracy open. “ _Here comes the lightshow.”_

Michael’s body exploded into all-consuming light. Tracy screamed as she felt her entire form become scorched. Face melting away. Eyes in flames. Blood scalding in her veins. Sam’s screams of pure pain and suffering. She couldn’t handle it, and yet she couldn’t make it stop. There was no end to this torment. There was no escape from this pain.

It was eternal.

* * *

 Opening her eyes, Tracy was panting, coated in her own sweat. For a second, she was disoriented, unaware of her own surroundings. Then, she remembered.

The motel room.

Hearing a sharp panting, she turned to see Krissy scrunched in her bed, shaking.

“Krissy?” The girl didn’t respond, just continued to make a weird breathing sound. It clicked for Tracy that she was hyperventilating. “Krissy!”

Climbing onto the other bed, she tried to force her friend awake.

“Krissy!” Krissy screamed slightly at the shouting, and curled away from Tracy.

“Krissy, it’s me.” Tracy begged, trying to comfort her friend. The girl just continued hyperventilating. Unsure of what to do, Tracy just tried to remember what her mom did when she had nightmares.

Her mom……

Her mom would stroke her hair. Convince her everything was all right.

Looking down at a very small-looking Krissy, she ran her fingers through the girl’s dark brown hair, making a soft shushing noise.

“It’s fine.” She convinced her friend. “That wasn’t real, Krissy. I’m real, Kris. I’m right here.” Tracy continued this for the next few minutes, waiting for her friend to calm down.

“Trace…” Krissy let out a low croak, drying her eyes. “It was….” Tracy sighed

“I know.” She said. “I saw it too…it wasn’t real, it was…” She trailed off. What could she say? That what Krissy had just seen, what she had just seen, was nothing? The pain wouldn’t be real, since the dream hadn’t? “It wasn’t even happening to you, it was happening to…” She stopped dead, realization sinking in.

Jumping off the bed, Tracy darted towards the door, and pounded on the door of the room next to theirs.

“Sam!” She shouted. There was no response. Tracy waited two beats, before pounding even harder. “Winchester!” Listening closely, she could hear something slamming. “Dammnit, Winchester, if you don’t open up right now, I’m breaking this door down and kicking your ass!”

Krissy, Aidan, and Josephine appeared behind Tracy as she continually pounded on the door, shouting for Sam. After a good minute, she gave a sigh, and kicked the door in, rushing in to find Sam Winchester seizing in pain.

On the ceiling.

“The Fu-?”

“We need to get him down.” Krissy ordered, jumping on the bed to try and reach the hunter. Turning to her friends, who were immobile with shock, she raised an eyebrow. “Gonna help or just stand there?” Jumping into action, they climbed up on the bed with her, struggling to reach the agonized man. Stretching slightly, Tracy wrapped her fingers around Sam’s neck.

“Got him!” She shouted, tugging down with all her might. Goddamn, this was harder than it looked. Not only was the hunter nothing but pure muscle (and considering he was pretty tall, that was a lot of muscle), but whatever had him up on the ceiling had pinned him there, like a thousand-pound weight was pushing against him.

Thankfully, Josephine, Aidan and Krissy were each able to grab him as well, and they were able to slowly tug him down, before sitting on his limbs to hold him there. They panted weakly, looking at each other as if they couldn’t think of what to say.

“Trace,” Josephine muttered weakly. She gestured to her forehead. “You got some..”

Wiping her hand across her own forehead, Tracy felt aware of the wet, warm liquid. She examined her fingers, confirming what she already knew.

“His blood.” She murmured. Reaching for a tissue box, she wiped her hand and then her forehead, before stuffing another napkin underneath Sam’s nose. Looking at his face, she noticed what appeared to be a belt fastened around his mouth. Similar straps (the same straps that had been attached to his bed last night) were on his arms and legs. The man gave a whimper of pain, shaking as if trying to throw them off his body. His eyes were fastened shut, and Tracy could feel that his entire body was on fire, and yet seemed clammy and sweaty. “Sam..” She felt herself whisper, stroking his hair and face like she had stroked Krissy’s. “Sam, wake up.” He whimpered again, giving a cry through his gag, as she tried to again. The others were probably looking at her like she was crazy, but it didn’t matter. “Sam…”

The seizing man gave a gasp, eyes shooting open. He resembled a deer in the headlights. And, maybe it was Tracy’s imagination, but she swore that she could see a fire flickering in the reflection of those hazel eyes.

Sam looked around at his surroundings, ripping the belt off of his mouth and panting heavily. He was pretty much drenched in his own sweat, much more drastically than she or Krissy had been. His eyes, alight with fear, darted from looking at her to the other three. Slowly, Sam began to relax, giving a sigh.

Sitting up (after they got off his arms and legs), he wiped his face. Without making another sound, the hunter pushed them aside, sliding off his bed and walking to the bathroom.  The door closed, and Tracy could hear the sound of vomiting. She and Krissy met eyes, saying nothing, letting the silence permeate. After about a good five minutes, Sam exited the restroom. He looked more tired than he had even after Freya had cut into him.

He stood there in the doorway, staring at the floor while the four of them were staring at Sam. Awkwardly tapping his foot against the frame, he suddenly cleared his throat.

“Coffee.” He whispered hoarsely. Tracy frowned at him.

“Uh…what?” Sam’s jaw clenched.

“Coffee. I need Coffee.” Removing the straps on his arms and legs, he walked over to the counter beside the bed. Grabbing his keys, he was making his way to the door when Krissy’s hand shot out to grab him.

“Sam, where are you going?” She asked, puzzled. Sam gave a jerk, removing her hand.

“Café down the road. I’ll be back.” He responded flatly. Walking to the door, he spun around quickly to look at the four shell-shocked teenagers. “Do you want anything? I’ll pay.” When no one responded, he shrugged, turning back to open the door. Tracy felt herself swing into action.

“Winchester, wait.” She shot to her feet. “I’ll drive. You’re….” In no condition? Shattered? “I’ll drive.” She reaffirmed. They stared at each other for a moment, before Sam gave a shrug and tossed her the keys. Looking back to the other three for a minute, she wordlessly followed him out the door.

* * *

There was no conversation between her and Sam as they climbed into the Cadillac. Looking at the clock on the dashboard, Tracy saw that it was 8:03. It had barely been 4 hours since they went to sleep. Pulling the car out of the motel parking lot, she looked to the passenger side to see a petrified Sam. They made the drive down the road to the coffee shop in equally silence. Sam seemed shut down, incapable of saying anything.

Entering the café, and getting in the line, she turned to Sam. To her shock, his beat-down, tired expression had been replaced by a shockingly ordinary one. One of curiosity, or boredom, or the anticipation of someone waiting to get their order taken so they good get back to work. Making their way to the front, they were met by a short slim Hispanic guy, with glasses and cropped, spiky black hair. His expression immediately brightened seeing Sam.

“Hey, stranger.” He said with a grin. “Back again.” Sam nodded, giving a broad smile.

“Yeah, you know me.” The hunter responded. The guy shifted his gaze to Tracy, and she could immediately see his smile falter. Turning back to Sam, he gave a devilish smirk.

“Let me guess: Four Large Triple-Red Eyes?” The tall man gave a nod. Turning to Tracy, Sam raised an eyebrow.

“Tracy, do you know what the other kids want?” He asked, his voice coming off somewhat like a parent, or counselor. Frowning slightly, Tracy turned back to the barista, whose expression was somewhat relieved.

“Yeah, I think so. Large Latte, Large Black Iced Coffee, Small Cappuccino, and a shot of espresso.” The server nodded, shouting the orders to the people behind him.

“Oh,” Sam added quickly, leaning in to get the smaller man’s attention. “Can we get around 5 bagels? Plain?” The man smiled, nodding.

“Sure thing, Mystery Man.” He gave a saucy wink, swiping the credit card Sam handed him. Tracy raised an eyebrow. Was this guy flirting with Sam?

Moving to the pick-up line, they stood again in silence. Sam had the same expression of calm, yet slightly annoyed and bored, on his face. His arms were folded, he had what Tracy was pretty sure a RBF (Resting Bitch Face), and he was tapping his foot, almost as if growing impatient. Their order came out, the bagels in a large bag and the coffee in two to-go cartons.

“Threw in some extra cream cheese for you.” The man informed Sam, smiling. “Not supposed to, but oh well.” Tracy was practically ready to roll her eyes. Poor guy couldn’t get the hint that Sam wasn’t gay.

“Thanks.” The hunter smiled back, showing his teeth (even Tracy had to admit it was pretty darn cute). “See you around, I guess.”

Making their way over to the condiments station, Tracy chuckled, in spite of what she had seen less than 30 minutes ago.

“Dude, Winchester, I think that guy has the hots for you.” She said. Cocking his head to glance sideways at her, Sam pulled one of the triple red eyes from the to-go Carton, showing her a name, _Ricky_ , and a phone number, written in Black Sharpie.

“Gee, what makes you think that?” He asked in a deadpan. The girl’s eyes widened.

“Ho-ho-holy crap.” She giggled. Turning back to ‘Ricky’, she smirked. “Don’t know whether to feel jealous because I’m the one who usually gets hit on, or pitiful because he doesn’t realize you’re not interested.” Sam shrugged.

“Dunno. He seems nice enough.” The hunter grinned widely at the barista, before walking towards the door. Tracy froze, eyes wide.

“Oh?” She asked curiously. Turning back to her, Sam gave her a wide smile. “Ohhhh..” Making their way outside, Tracy nodded appreciatively. “You’re full of surprises.”

The minute they get back into the car, she turned to smile at Sam. However, the almost normal expression Sam had had on in the café was gone, replaced with the same awkward distant discomfort that she’d seen earlier. She bit her lip, realizing she should have been smarter than to think that a feeling like that could’ve easily been forgotten. The whole thing inside, the light-heartedness. It was a façade, a mask.

* * *

Back at the hotel, they all ate their bagels in silence. Sam had gone through three of the four Triple red-eyes he had ordered (discarding them all, even the one with Ricky’s name and number, unfortunately), and Tracy knew he could feel their eyes on him.

After what had been about 15 minutes, Sam finally cleared his throat, looking at the rest of them from the desk he had been sitting at. He turned the chair outward.

“So, I guess I should explain a few things.” He said awkwardly. None of them responded. He huffed, smiling that fake smile. “It’s like you’ve seen me naked, except much worse.” It was a rather sick joke, so none of them smiled back. Looking back down at his feet, Sam shuffled them awkwardly. “Best to start at the beginning, I guess.” They waited for him to start. “In the beginning, God created the heavens and the earth....” The hunter looked back up, the same fake grin on his face. Seeing the four of them remain motionless, he sighed. “Sorry, Dean’s the funny brother. I’m more of the lame, boring one.”

“Just tell us, Sam.” Tracy ordered. Meeting her eyes, the man slowly exhaled, giving a nod.

“Okay. Abbreviated version.” He said with a shrug. “Before humans, before demons, before Earth and Heaven, before even God, there was an entity. It goes by one name: Darkness.” Tracy tilted her head. _Before God?_   Sam pressed on. “God and Death come into being, and try to fight off the Darkness, before realizing they can’t do it alone. So, God creates hideous creatures, called the Leviathans, and a sister, Eve, to fight the Darkness. Unfortunately, not all goes to plan. Darkness then corrupts the Leviathans (Eve’s corruption remains uncertain), and instead God throws them in a dimension predating Earth, Heaven, and Hell. Purgatory. So, Plan number 2, God goes and calls into being four entities of pure light: The Archangels.” He looks at each of them. “Gabriel, Raphael, Michael,” Those hazel eyes come to rest on Tracy. “And Lucifer.

“God, Death and the Archangels defeat the darkness, which was challenging even for them, considering it was everywhere. However, they couldn’t destroy the Darkness, so they simply had to settle for binding it, into one compact little mark. God places the mark in the trust of his most favored and trusted son, Lucifer.

“And, the part you know better. God makes the heavens and the Earth, and then the other angels and humanity. All’s well…for the time being. The mark begins to exert it’s influence onto Lucifer, who grows resentful, even arrogant towards his father. So, when God orders the angels, even the Archangels, to bow down to his newest, and most flawed creation, man, to say the least, Lucifer wasn’t happy.

“He goes to Michael, his trusted older brother, the same one who raises him, and suggests they cause a rebellion against God.” There was a pause, as Sam chuckled. “Michael might’ve cared as little for humanity as Lucifer did, but he was an obedient son. He fights with Lucifer, who loses, and God casts the younger son out of heaven. So, Lucifer decides to go around screwing with humanity. He tricks an Angel, Gadreel, into letting him into the Garden. He makes humanity eat the fruit from the Tree of Knowledge of Good and Evil, and turns Lilith, Adam’s first wife, into the first demon. God gets pissed, decides he’s had enough of Lucifer’s bullshit, and creates hell, having Michael cast Lucifer into the deepest part of it, The Cage. Lilith’s thrown deep down as well, and God ordains any humans who become corrupt or evil…any humans who obey Lucifer, or a demon, or kill in God’s name….instead of being accepted into heaven, their souls are condemned to the pit. To become like Lilith: twisted and corrupted. Reflections of their former selves. Demons.

“Lucifer gets the last laugh, though. Even in the pit, he starts speaking to Abel, the second son of Adam. His brother, Cain, makes a deal with Lucifer. An exchange. Abel’s soul in heaven, for Cain’s soul in Hell. And thus, you had the first Demon Deal. The catch was that Cain had to take the mark Lucifer bore, the one carrying the Darkness. He had to take it, and send his younger brother to heaven himself. So, Cain fashions a blade out of the jawbone of an animal: The first Blade. He strikes his brother down, and Lucifer passes on the Mark onto him, and it receives it’s more popular name: The Mark of Cain.

“Flash-forward to 1972: A demon with yellow eyes, Azazel, possesses a priest at St. Mary’s Convent in Ilchester, Maryland. He rampages, kills 8 nuns, and uses their blood to talk to Lucifer from the Cage, because the church was built on the closest physical location to it. Lucifer speaks through the nuns, and tells Azazel he needs to set Lilith free, and find a ‘special child’.

“So, Azazel, or Yellow Eyes, goes around the countryside for the next year. Makes a collection of deals with women, for things they value the most. Tells them he’ll be there to collect in 10 years. A family of hunters, the Campbells, who are based in Lawrence, Kansas, see the omens. They begin to pursue the demon. Meanwhile, the daughter of the Campbells, Mary, begins to question whether she wants to hunt. Her father, Samuel, doesn’t approve of the boy she’s dating, a young veteran marine who fought in Vietnam, and who works as a mechanic, with no family and no money to his name.

“One night, when Mary’s on another date with her boyfriend, Azazel takes over Samuel Campbell’s body. Stabs his vessel, so Samuel will die the minute he smokes out, and then kills his wife, Deanna. He finds Mary and her boyfriend, John, and without another warning snaps John’s neck. He explains to her that he’ll bring John back to life, and Mary can live the life she always wanted, free of hunting, if she promises he can collect something in ten years time. Not her soul, no. Something much, much more important.” There was a hushed silence, the room’s eyes on Sam. He smiled sadly.  “And Mary…she loved John more than anything. And she hated hunting, with a passion.

“So, she made the deal, and John was reanimated. Of course, her parents were dead, but as long as they were alive, Mary and John could’ve never been together anyways. So, the two young lovers marry, and become John and Mary Winchester. 7 years pass by, and they have a son, Dean, named after Mary’s Mother. 3 years later, and they have their second son on the 2nd of May. He’s named after his grandfather, Samuel.” Tracy turned to see Sam, clenching his jaw again, tears welling in his eyes.

“From the time Sam’s born, they have roughly six months of Elysian peace, just like they had for the past 10 years. Then, November 2nd, 1983 approaches. 10 years to the date from when she made the deal with Azazel. Mary walks into Sam’s nursery, and sees a figure over the crib. She thinks it’s John, and asks if Sam’s hungry. He shushes her, and she walks down stairs to get a bottle. Sees John on the couch. And then remembers her deal, and runs upstairs to stop the demon from taking her son.” Maybe it’s just Tracy, but she can swear she sees flashes of a blond woman in a nightgown, pinned to the ceiling.

“John wakes up to Mary’s screams. Runs into the nursery. Sees nothing but his son, goes to comfort him. Notices blood dripping into Sam’s crib. Looks up, and sees his wife, her stomach cut open, pinned-” Sam looks down, his foot tapping and jaw clenching furiously. “The ceiling goes up in flames, and the house shakes. He takes his younger son, leaves the nursery, runs into his older son, and hands the baby to him, telling him to run outside as fast as possible. Runs back into the nursery, yells for his wife. But it’s too late. The fire’s too big, and John has to run outside, just in time for the nursery to explode.

“The Local police and fire department of Lawrence are baffled. They can’t indict John Winchester for arson or murder, because they can’t identify the cause of the fire. Especially one that originated in the nursery. And they also can’t identify why John Winchester would save his two young sons, but kill his wife, especially when there is no evidence that John would have reason too. They declare it an accident.

“And John Winchester takes his two sons in his Black 1967 Chevy Impala, and leaves Lawrence. He learns all about the Supernatural world, and ironically, turns his sons into what Mary least wanted them to be. Hunters.”

There was a heavy silence. Tracy remembered seeing her family bleed out in front of her. The family who always encouraged her to love, and to be kind, and to forgive.

If they could see what she had become…..

She couldn’t confirm that they’d be pleased.

“So, flash-forward to 2002. My senior year of high school. I was raised to hold a shotgun and do research on all things that go bump in the night since I was old enough to read and to walk. So was Dean. I didn’t have any friends, I’d lived my entire life out of motel rooms, and I’d been to over 20 high schools since I started. My family didn’t share the same desire for being ordinary that I did. After all, _I_ didn’t remember my Mom, so I didn’t carry the same feeling of anger that my dad did. And I felt hunting was useless, because no matter how many people we saved, there would always be more monsters. More bodies piling up.

“I got accepted to Stanford, remarkable considering I switched schools practically every month, and I couldn’t really join any clubs given how I’d have to apply to those same clubs every time we moved. I was ready to head off for college, live an ordinary life. Help people in a different way. I told my Dad and Dean the night before I left that I had applied, been accepted, and was able to get my tuition paid, since the credit card scams my Dad ran were not under the name Winchester, so to all the world we were dirt-poor, and Stanford has need- based scholarships.” Tracy already knew this, as did Krissy, but since Aidan and Josephine had not been in the same car on the ride back to the motel, they were genuinely shocked to see a Hunter from a prestigious school.

“What did they do?” Jo asked, scooting forward in her seat on the bed. Sam shrugged.

“Told me to let Stanford know I wasn’t going. I was a hunter, I was raised a hunter, I had to stay with them. I didn’t get to go to college. I didn’t get the chance for a normal life.” He spat the words out.

“And what did you say back?” Tracy asked. Sam scoffed slightly.

“I said to my Dad that we could’ve tried to keep on living. All the people we’d helped before had lost family to monsters. They’d had their lives fucked up. And they just went back to living normally, or as normally as possible. I said I was going. I wasn’t letting him sign away my life just because he was all too happy to sign away his.” He looked down at the floor again. “I thought I could’ve counted on Dean to defend me, or at talk my Dad down. But he didn’t say a word when my Dad beat the living shit out of me.” Tracy sucked in a breath, trying to imagine Dean Winchester, famed for being brave and protective throughout the hunting world, watching silently as his father attacked and beat his younger into submission. “My Dad said ‘If you don’t walk out that door, don’t bother coming back.’ ”

“And?” Krissy inquires, frowning. Sam looked at her sadly.

“I did. For a while. While being shut off from Dean and my Dad was uncomfortable, I was able to live like I never thought I could. Halloween Night, 2005, around 4 years later, I felt like the world was my oyster. I was in the top 5% in my Class at Stanford. I got a 174 on the LSATs, with an interview for Stanford Law School on the Monday after. I was all set to graduate, and I was living with my girlfriend of roughly 1 and three fourths of a year, Jess Moore. Jess..” Sam trailed off. “Jess was everything. She was kind, encouraging. She built confidence in me, when I didn’t have confidence in myself, which was often. She was sweet, sexy, beautiful, experimental, accepting. She wouldn’t wrinkle her nose in disgust when I told her about something I wanted to try. She’d just laugh and do it.” There was another pause, and Tracy swore that Winchester was about to cry.

“What happened?” Aidan asked nervously.

“Someone broke into our house, Halloween night. I heard him, crawled out of bed, and confronted the guy who was breaking and entering. Turned out to be Dean. Our Dad was on a hunting trip, and had gone missing. I was reluctant to get back into this mess, especially when I had an interview on Monday to change my future completely.”

“But…..” Tracy said, eyeing him. Sam gave a sigh.

“But, he was my Dad, so what could I do? I went with Dean, and found out Dad had been hunting a Woman in White. We found her, got rid of her, but still no Dad. So, we made our way back to Stanford. Dean dropped me off in front of my apartment.” Tracy’s heart dropped, already knowing where this was going. “I walked in, and called out to see if Jess was home, because the lights were all off.” Sam laughed weakly. “There was a big pile of cookies with a sticker saying ‘Missed you! Love you!’ in front of them. I got in our room, saw the bathroom door was open with the shower running and the lights on, so I didn’t think anything of it. Got onto our bed, tried to go to sleep. But then, I felt two small drops fall onto my forehead, and opened my eyes to look at the ceiling.” Sam’s jaw clenched, and he sniffled.

“I was going to marry her, you know. I never told Dean, or anyone, but I had started shopping for rings. I was going to ask her to marry me at graduation, and we’d be married by the time we were out of grad school.” Tracy tried to picture Sam Winchester, a ring on his finger and a young woman (in fact, the same young blond woman from the dream) around his arms, smiling, laughing. Looking to the grim-faced, exhaustion-heavy man in front of her, it was quite the contrast. Sam continued his story.

“Dean busted in when the fire started, dragged me out so I wouldn’t end up dead.” His face was lined with cold apathy. “Believe me, I wanted to. The Stanford police were astounded, similar to how the Lawrence police were exactly 22 years before. Since I had said the door was locked before I entered, they were about to bring me up on murder charges. But, to all the world, my records were squeaky clean. The police couldn’t believe a guy with an interview to Stanford Law would kill his girlfriend the night before, especially since according to everyone, we were the ‘All-American Couple’, and also since the same aforementioned guy was screaming for his girlfriend and crying his eyes out.

“So, without finishing my final year with at least my B.A, without even officially making plans to take a break and come back and finish school later, I headed on the road with Dean. He wanted to follow Dad’s trail, and go on, hunting like usual. I was more in the mind for revenge.

“Of course, that didn’t always work out. I got pissed that Dean would follow the instructions that Dad left for us, without question like he normally did. So, when I confronted him, he’d lecture me about he knew how hard it must be, having lost someone. And I pretty much was too pissed off to continue on with him, because he didn’t know. He’d been four when Mom died, not old enough to feel the sting of her loss, and he had just met Jess, so he did _not_ know what it felt like. He didn’t know how hard it was. So, I went my own way, ran into a girl named Meg Masters. That didn’t last long, thank god, because we got back to working with each other. Unfortunately, Meg turned out to be a demon, the adoptive daughter of Azazel. She lured us into a trap in Chicago to bring our Dad out of hiding. We escaped, but it still worked, and we ran into our Dad. He said he knew what had killed Mom, so he was going to go after it, and kill it.

“We continued hunting for a while, before crossing paths with our Dad again. He revealed the rumors he’d heard of a gun that could kill anything, a gun made by a Hunter named Samuel Colt. So, the next plan was for finding the Colt, and finding the demon.

“And?” Krissy demanded. Sam gave a shrug.

“Found the Colt, got the demon in a corner, but it made it’s escape, along with the gun. It caused us to get into a car accident, pretty much had Dean on death’s door. My father was planning to summon the demon to kill it, but instead, he made a deal with Azazel. Like my mother had. So, Azazel saved Dean, and killed our Dad instantly. And Dean and I were back on the road again, trying to find the demon.

“Dean and I began to uncover the truth. Azazel _had_ planned something for me. Whatever he had done, it gave me abilities, which started manifesting around 6 months before Jess died. I realized the full scope much later. I could see things before they happened, particularly if they involved me. I could sense the supernatural, like ghosts and spirits.” Sam scoffed. “I started finding other people like me. We weren’t born on the same day, and only some of us had had our mothers die in the same way, but we had all developed our powers in 2005.” There was a pause.

“Who were some of them?” Tracy asked, in spite of herself. Sam sighed, pausing to think.

“There was Max Miller. He was telekinetic, could move things with his mind. He killed both his father and his uncle for abusing him, since they blamed him for his Mom’s nursery-fire death. We saved his step-mom, who had said nothing about Max’s abuse, and tried to talk Max out of killing her, but he shot himself instead.

“Andy Gallagher was next. We found him in Guthrie, Oklahoma. I’d had visions of people killing themselves after answering the phone, and went to investigate with Dean, and Andy was the only one who fit the bill. Dead Mom in Nursery Fire six months after Andy was born. I was kind of freaking out at this point, because the only two people I’d encountered like me were seemingly kind of murderish.”

“Later, Dean and I found a connection between the two vics. One was the doctor who’d delivered Andy, and the other was his mother.” Tracy frowned.

“I thought you said his mother died when he was six months old.” Sam paused, before shaking his head.

“Sorry, should have been clearer.” He said. “The mom who’d died in the fire was Andy’s adopted Mom. The woman who’d been forced to kill herself was Andy’s birth mom.” Clearing his throat, Sam carried on. “Anyways, turns out Andy had a twin brother, who’d been separated from him at birth, Ansem. He had been behind the killings, and he’d had the same abilities as Andy. He wanted to hurt anyone who came between them, and said he was just doing what Yellow Eyes told him to. He tried getting Dean and I to turn on each other, but while it worked for Dean, I was immune or something. Andy shot him just in time, and we parted ways with him.

“Soon after, Dean admitted to me that our Dad’s last words were to watch me.” Sam said. “Not just to watch _over_ me, like he always was asked to, but to watch _me_. His exact words were that there might come a time where Dean had to kill me.” Tracy raised an eyebrow. She had already doubted the unkind things said about Sam after witnessing the nightmare last night, but she now was starting to see that the universe seemed stacked against him. “I just decided to go on a hunt for more of what Azazel had termed ‘Special Children.’ The first I found was a recently murdered guy from Lafayette, Indiana. Scott Carey. When I checked out his house, I found out he’d kind of gone paranoid, and in his room I saw a collage of pictures, each of them having a pair of yellow eyes.

“When I made my back to the motel, I was stopped by a girl. Ava Wilson. Her powers were easier to deal with. Precognition, like me. She told me she saw visions of me dying, and that I was in danger. She said she’d seen visions of Scott’s death, and thought nothing of it, until she saw news of it in the paper. I realized Ava was like me, Andy, Scott, Max, and Ansem. Except, of course, the fact that her mom didn’t die. She was still alive.

“We worked together to break into where Scott had been going to therapy, and steal his records. They were littered with talk about a Man with Yellow Eyes, and how Scott could electrocute anything with a touch. They mentioned people like him, like us, and how we were going to be soldiers in a coming war.

“We got sidetracked by a hunter, Gordon Walker. He was familiar with Dean and I, cause we stopped him from killing a nest of vamps who didn’t hunt humans. He heard from a demon that these ‘special children’, like Ava and I, were going to be on hell’s side in a coming war. Dean got in his way after looking for me, so he took him to lure me into a trap and kill me.

“Once I rescued Dean and got Gordon locked away, I went back to check on Ava at her house. But the place was lined with sulfur, and her fiancée was dead, and Ava was gone.

“Flash forward six months: I haven’t heard another word about the special children, or Azazel. I walk into a diner, Dean waiting in the car, to get some carry-out. A demon swarms the place, kills the other people, and carries me off. When I woke up, I was in a ghost town. I found Andy Gallagher, the one ‘Special Child’ I’d met before who hadn’t died or disappeared or anything. Then Ava. She said she didn’t remember anything. Last were two other special children, Jake Talley, a soldier in Afghanistan, and Lily, a girl from San Diego.”

“Their powers?” Krissy inquired, curiosity on her face. Sam paused, trying to think.

“Jake had a kind of super-strength. He was infinitely stronger than he looked. Lily involuntarily stopped people’s hearts by touching them, and only had used it once. Against her girlfriend.”

“Fun.” Krissy murmured.

“I realized this was the final fight. We had some part to play in the Apocalypse, and Azazel had snatched us all and placed us in the abandoned town of Cold Oak, South Dakota for the end game. I had Andy send Dean a visual message of our location, and tried to explain to the other special children what was happening. Lily didn’t want to be a part of this, so she tried leaving. An Acheri, who was haunting the town, wasn’t having it, and hung her. I got the other three to trust me, and we occupied a house and had salt lines. Unfortunately, Azazel was sending me visions of how he wanted me to win, since I was the most well-trained. Andy died next, and I realized that since it was behind the salt lines, it meant one of the other two were responsible. And Ava was the only one who had a long period of time passed from when she went missing.

“She killed him?” Tracy asked, dubious of how a girl who helped him had quickly turned bad. Sam gave a shrug.

“Azazel made it clear only one of us would survive. The entire time we were looking for him, he’d been getting other children, three or four at a time, and throwing them into the town. Ava….” He paused. “She became psychotic. Or evil. Or else she really didn’t care, and wanted to live, rather than die. She’d been there long enough to channel her abilities. She was able to summon the Acheri with her mind, and set it on Andy and Lily and who knows how many others. She was, as she termed herself, ‘The Undefeated Heavyweight Champ’.” Sam gave a sigh.

“Thankfully, Jake showed up right after and snapped her neck. That is…before he turned on me.”

“Goddamn, this story is so fast-paced I can barely keep up.” Josephine muttered. Winchester smiled slyly.

“Imagine how I felt. I lived it, and this was just the first two years after I started hunting.” Tracy felt her heart lurch. She thought she’d been through a lot.

“So, the military guy, Jake, saved you from Ava, and then started attacking you? Why?”

“Azazel came to him as well. Explained everything, and threatened to harm his family if he didn’t finish it. So, he beat me senseless.” Sam chuckled weakly “Don’t stand much of a chance against a guy with super strength. Got him down, though. For a minute. Right when Dean and our friend Bobby showed up.” Sam looked down. “Made the mistake of turning my back on Jake. He stabbed me right in the spine, and ran away.” They sat in silence, again, this time for a good five minutes, before Tracy interrupted.

“And?” She asked, eyebrows raised. Sam frowned.

“And what?” He responded. Tracy gave a roll of her eyes.

“And what happened?” The hunter gave a shrug.

“I died.”

* * *

 “Wait, run that by me again.” Tracy questioned, getting to her feet. “You died?” Sam nodded affirmatively.

“Stone-cold.” There was a pause, and seeing the look of confusion on her face, he smiled softly. “Dean brought me back, obviously.”

“How?” The smile faded.

“Crossroads demon.” He answered, sighing. “Guess that was a common trait in our family, making deals with demons to save the ones we love: My mom saved my Dad, my Dad saved Dean, and Dean saved me.”

“Dean didn’t say anything at first, so I had no idea. We just followed Jake to Wyoming, where there was an iron railroad in the shape of a devil’s trap. Azazel had given him the Colt, to open a Devil’s Gate built by Samuel Colt. We got there, along with our friends Bobby and Ellen, to see him open it. Couldn’t stop the heavy flow of spirits pouring out, but I was able to kill Jake (who was very, very surprised to see how well I was doing) and close the gate, while Dean took the colt and killed Yellow Eyes.

“When we were finished, I found out about the demon deal. I spent the next year trying to figure out how to get Dean out of it, because the demon he had dealt with was one we caught before, and only gave him 1 year instead of the regular 10. At the same time, Dean and I were dealing with the all the demons who’d been released from the Devil’s Trap. See, we thought Azazel’s plan was to have the surviving ‘Special Child’ the army of demons: Since Jake was dead, Azazel was dead, and I was not going to help the demons at all, we thought they’d have no sense of direction. Turns out, we were wrong.

“See, the demons were rallying around the Queen and Leader of Hell I mentioned earlier, Lilith. She hadn’t walked the earth in since God created hell, so we knew it didn’t bode well that she was back. Plus, she seemed intent on destroying me. We had demon after demon get sent after us. We would have been dead a good number of times, if it hadn’t been for some help.”

“Bobby Singer?” Krissy guessed. Sam frowned slightly, thinking on how to answer.

“Yes, but definitely not who I was talking about. I was on a hunt with Dean and Bobby. Demons who were the seven sins, personified. I got cornered by three of them, when this…skinny….blond… _girl_ …comes out of nowhere and stabs them with a blade that destroys not just their vessels, but the demons themselves. Kinda like the Colt. When I ask who she is, she just says that she’s the girl who saved my ass, and disappears.

“She was far from done with me. I later found out her name was Ruby. She originally told me she was a hunter, and had me research do research on a couple names. I found out anyone who knew my Mother had been killed off. Systematically. There was no way for her to know this, so she was forced to reveal herself as a demon.

“I was ready to kill her. I didn’t believe her for one second when she tried to tell me about how all demons weren’t alike, and how she just wanted to help. I should’ve killed her, actually. It would’ve saved us a lot of problems. But she promised to help me do the one thing no one else could do.”

“Save your brother.” Tracy murmured. Sam gave a nod.

“She spent the next year helping us, despite the fact Dean didn’t trust her as far as he could throw her. She showed Bobby how to fix the Colt, she’d pulled us out of the fire and saved us from demons more times than we could count. She’d even played along with our sense of morality. When we and a group of people had been cornered by a group of demons, she gave us a spell that would destroy any demons in certain proximity. But it required the heart of a virgin girl, Nancy Fitzgerald. So, instead of doing the spell against our wishes, she left.

“She told me if I could reawaken my psychic powers, which had disappeared after Azazel’s death, I might save Dean. Which, unfortunately, directly contradicted what Dean made me promise to do. On the last night, Dean put her in a demon’s trap, and we made our way to Lilith’s location, so she would stop attacking us and free Dean from his deal. Ruby, somehow, made her way out and followed us to help. So, without logical reason, we entered Lilith’s hideout. She’d been possessing a little girl, and had killed her grandmother and grandfather, and had been holding the parents hostage. I was about to….” Sam paused. “I was about to stab her with Ruby’s knife, before we released she’d jumped hosts. Lilith had forced Ruby out of her host, and sent her to hell. She cornered Dean and I in a room. Then, she let the hellhound loose on Dean.” Sam paused, shaking his feet again, as if this distraction could hide the truth.

“Seeing Jess burn in flames was nowhere near as horrible as it was to watch my brother get torn to shreds.” He muttered shakily. “I was powerless to watch. I begged Lilith to stop, take me instead. She was the one I wanted, after all. But, after Dean had been finished, Lilith had tried destroying me with this pure light. For some reason, it didn’t work. The psychic energy she had been holding me against the wall with went away. Her powers weren’t working. I grabbed the knife, and was five minutes away from stabbing her, when she smoked out. I was left cradling my brother’s mangled corpse.”

“But Dean-” Krissy began.

“I told you I died, and the minute I tell you Dean died, you doubt me?” Sam asked, somewhat perplexed. Krissy turned red, looking back at her feet.

“Anyways, that was a low point. See, in my mind, Dean being in Hell had been my fault. So, I got reckless. Careless. Sloppy. Offered up deals to any Crossroads demon I could reach: A simple trade. Restore Dean’s soul to earth right away, and drag mine into the pit. None of them wanted to.

“Eventually, Lilith got a track on my location, and decided she wanted to finish me. And, who does she send, but Ruby. New host, same bitchy attitude. For some reason, though, she decides to kill the other demon, instead of following the order to kill me. She offered to keep helping me, but I was uncomfortable following her. Especially when the vessel she was using was another living, breathing woman. So, to play to my sympathy, she takes over a coma patient. A Jane Doe, who’s not missed by anyone. Short, dark-haired. Kind of Hispanic, or something. I don’t know. Her soul was moved out, so Ruby could move in without letting anyone suffer.

“Ruby began to teach me what I could do to awaken my abilities. By drinking demon blood.” Tracy felt her nose wrinkle in disgust. “I know, I’m gross. Whatever. But it made sense, at least to me, because I learned my powers originated from Azazel dripping blood in my mouth over my crib. The reason he had killed my mom, and some of the other kids’ moms, is because they came in and tried to stop the process.

“So, with encouragement from Ruby, I began to drink her blood. She began to teach me how to exorcise demons.”

“Don’t you already know how to do that?” Aidan interjected. Sam raised an eyebrow.

“Exorcise them _telepathically_.” He clarified. “All the while, Ruby was trying to comfort me. Tell me how I’d get over losing Dean, even though I knew eventually he’d come back, just like Ruby and every other demon did. That’s what happened to all hell-bound souls, our Dad being the only exception, since he escaped when Jake opened the Devil’s Gate.

“I knew, impulsively, that trusting Ruby was not what Dean would want, because she was a demon, and she didn’t deserve human trust no matter how many times she saved us or spared us. But she was all I had. She could give me what I wanted, and what Dean couldn’t help with, and what Bobby would never agree to help with.” Tracy saw another smile on his face, and it was terrifying and chilling. “Revenge.” The smile stayed on his face for a minute, before he blinked, shaking the feeling off.

“Anyways, I was pretty much alone besides her, and she kept forcing herself on me. So, I eventually gave in.” Tracy looked to the others, and saw that, like her, their eyebrows were slowly approaching their hairline. “I really believed she was different than other demons. After all, she had played along to my human sympathies, and had tried to comfort me even when I didn’t want to be. She had been a completely different person than when we first dealt with her. She was meeker, more understanding, more withdrawn. It was much easier to give into her than before, since she was convincingly more sympathetic, and less bitchy and bossy.

“So, when Dean came back, to say that this was a hell of a monkey-wrench was understating. I had been shocked to death, thinking he was some kind of demon or shapeshifter, something to taunt me. Dean thought I’d made a demon deal. When we found out that it was neither, we worried what had happened. That is, until we found out who was responsible.” A short pause, and Tracy gave a huff.

“You just love soaking the room up with tension, don’t you?” She asked accusatorily. Sam gave a hearty laugh, unlike the cruel or humorless ones she’d heard earlier. To her surprise, Tracy felt her heart jump at the noise, but couldn’t find a logical reason why. Shock, maybe?

“Fair enough. Anyways,” He looked at them in the eyes. “It was angels. Now, they might not surprise you, given that you guys pretty much learned about hunting after they were wide-spread, but keep in mind, up until that point, we thought angels weren’t real. So, we were pretty shocked when we found out that they were real, and Heaven was real as well.

“The main angel we interacted with, Castiel, was nice enough. He explained that he’d raised Dean from perdition. He relayed heaven’s word to us calmly. The other angels….they were pretty much, as Dean called them, ‘Feathery douche-bags’.” Krissy, Aidan and Josephine snorted, and Tracy found herself smiling slightly.

“I was excited, at first. See, I was the one who had faith growing up, not Dean. I was eager to meet the angels, and interact with them. But, they made it pretty damn clear they hated me, and only really wanted to deal with Dean. I was an unfortunate add-on, because Dean, for the most part, would not do anything without me.” Tracy frowned.

“Why did they hate you?” Sam gave a shrug.

“Because I was an ‘abomination’. Not even really human. Most of them felt compelled to at least be indifferent towards humanity, but with demon blood, I didn’t really count.

“So, Castiel reveals to Dean what I’ve been doing with Ruby, and Dean confronts us and tries to kill her. Too bad for him, Ruby was stronger, and walked away. So, since he couldn’t beat up Ruby, he settles for me.” Tracy’s mouth ran dry. Dean Winchester saying nothing as his little brother was getting beat up was bad enough. Dean Winchester doing it himself is another thing entirely. “I get he was scared for me, because the angels essentially threatened to take action against me. But he expressed it in a sucky way. He told me how I was ‘so far off the reservation’, how if he didn’t know me, he’d want to hunt me, but I didn’t want to listen. I tried reasoning with him, explaining how I could force demons back into hell that was different from a normal exorcism. It seemed right. After all, Dean was all about saving people, and the Demon knife kills the victim, and normal exorcisms had a good chance of doing the same as well. Dean wasn’t having it, pretty much telling me how I was going to stop doing it or else. And there wasn’t much more conversation about it.

“Back on the road, we found out Lilith was breaking things called Seals. They were created by God to function as the locks to Lucifer’s Cage. Of course, why God would create locks in the first place is kind of beyond me. Same with why there were around 600, but only 66 needed to be broken. But it made sense why the demons wanted Dean in hell. He needed to break the first.”

“Why?” Josephine asked.

“See, most of the seals could be broken in any specific order (another thing that didn’t make any sense), but the first one was the only thing that actually made the seals function. The demons needed a righteous man to spill blood in hell, and Dean fit that description the minute he tortured another soul.”

“What?” Krissy demanded, shooting to her feet. “Why would he do that?” Sam gestured for her to sit down.

“It’s more complicated than you think. See, it had been four months for me. But according to Dean, a month in hell was a decade, so every day I lived without him was around 120 days of pure torture for him.” Tracy went cold. “He was carved open in every single which way, every day, down to a bloody hunk of meat, before his form was restored. A demon, Alastair, would offer every day to stop torturing Dean, if he himself started torturing the souls of the damned. For the first 30 years, Dean held out. But the last 10, he spent under Alastair’s tutelage. Thus, the first seal was broken.

“Lilith began breaking seals, and we spent more time around the angels. I began to see them for what they were. Manipulative, uncaring bastards. For one of the seals, a demon who was the inspiration for Halloween, Samhain, had to be released. Dean and I were investigating the case in a town, where we ran into Castiel and another angel, Uriel. They were all too willing to level the entire town, too willing to kill 2,000 or more people, to ensure the seal would not be broken. When we ran into an angel who had become human, who’d surrendered her grace, Cass and Uriel were ready to kill her, and Ruby, regardless all Dean had done to keep her away, was ready to defend her, for us, despite the fact that it was against everything in her nature. When the angels in Cass and Uriel’s garrison were being killed off, they dragged Dean in to do the one thing he was least comfortable doing. Torturing.

“They didn’t care that it was against his humanity. They didn’t even care that he didn’t want to. They just carried him off to a hidden location, and left me there worrying. No need to involve the abomination, they thought. I was of no use.

“I wanted to protect Dean. I knew he was less willing to do things than _I_ was, and after all my brother had been through, for me, I didn’t want to put him through anything that he didn’t have to do. I was more than willing to destroy my humanity, because Dean would do the same for me.

“I’d been back to working with Ruby, behind Dean’s back, because I had lost faith in the angels’ competence. So, being a former Witch, she’d given me a tracking spell, and pumped me full of her blood.

“I’d walked in to find Dean’s same torturer, Alastair, the one the angels captured, free of his devil’s trap. He’d tortured Dean, and was about to expunge Castiel so he could kill Dean and send him back to hell. I pinned him down with my powers, and was able to extract the information. The demons had never killed the angels. And, instead of exorcising the bastard back to Hell so he could just come back up, I destroyed him.”

“Destroyed him.” Krissy repeated. Sam nodded. “With your telepathic powers, you destroyed a high-tier demon.” He nodded again.

“Dean was hospitalized, and Castiel was pretty much horrified to realize that Uriel had planned to kill Dean. Uriel had been the one killing their fellow Angels, because he wanted Lucifer back. He had caused Castiel’s devil’s trap to break. See, according to Heaven, Dean, being the one to break the seals, was the only one who could kill Lilith. But Ruby was singing a different tune. She said if I could use my power to it’s full extent, I’d be able to kill Lilith. I could shield Dean from this.

“Eventually, my bloodlust and dependence on the demon blood got so bad that I actually pounced on a demon and bit into her neck, killing her host. Dean decided he’d had enough. He and Bobby led me into the panic room Bobby has, and locked me in. I was going to go cold Turkey, and they hadn’t even bothered asking me.

“Unfortunately, detoxing from demon blood has violent effects. Hallucinations, utter agony, excessive begging and pleading…” He eyed them warily. “Telekinetically slamming into things.

“Someone let me out. It wasn’t Dean or Bobby, and it couldn’t be a demon, since the panic room door is made out of iron, along with the rest of it. So I assumed it was an angel.” Seeing Tracy open her mouth to ask a question, he held a finger up. “I’ll get to that in a minute.” She blushed.

“I got out, met up with Ruby at a hotel, and had my fix, so my mind would come down from it’s crazy, hallucinogenic state. Dean eventually caught up with me, and tried killing Ruby, but I stopped him. I tried reasoning with him, telling how I was strong enough to kill Lilith. He told me how the angels told him he was the only one capable of doing it, and got pretty pissed when I scoffed at him. I was trying to be practical. He didn’t understand why I trusted Ruby, and I didn’t really understand why he didn’t. She’d saved our asses plenty, she’d expressed more humanity and sympathy than Castiel, Uriel, and Zachariah (another angel we’d met) combined, and she seemed a lot more competent than they were. Plus, their whole manner of getting Dean to do things boiled down to ‘We raised you from Hell, we can throw you back in.’ or ‘Your beastly brother can be put down easily’ or, the usual, ‘We are heaven’s soldiers, do as we say.’

“I begged Dean, even though he didn’t trust Ruby, to trust me. It made sense for him to. I mean, he was my brother, and I’d trusted him more than enough times just for that reason. But he refused.

“Dean wasn’t wrong. I mean, he could see that Ruby had established a sick, codependent relationship with me. She’d given me blood and let me hang out to dry so I would come to crave it. The only problem is he tried reasoning with a pure, coked-out junkie, to get them to not trust their dealer. He thought it was common sense, when he’d never experienced the lure of power that I felt every time I drank demon blood. He told me that if I couldn’t see what was wrong with what I was doing, then it was less of what I was doing and more of what I was.” Sam’s face shifted into pure pain

“My own brother, who’d been my ally since day 1, called me a monster.” Beside Tracy, she heard Krissy sucked in a breath. “He was right, of course, but it still hurt.” Sam said, rushed and full of faux-humorous tone for the rest of them to laugh it off.

“Needless to say, that wasn’t the smartest thing to say to your loser-junkie brother. I’d heard it from angels, from demons, from other hunters. But to hear it from the person I cared about the most, who I was doing all this for, was a whole other thing. So, I hit him. And he hit me back. About 14 times.” He chuckled darkly. “Unfortunately, Demon Blood boosted my strength, along with my abilities, so I was able to win. I got him pinned to the floor, and was about a second away from killing him, when the human part of me snapped out of it and walked away.

“He yelled at me to never bother coming back if I walked out the door.” Sam continued on, painfully. “He thought using my father’s exact words when I left for Stanford would work this time. Unfortunately, he was wrong.

“Ruby and I had cornered Lilith in the same church Azazel had killed all those Nuns years ago. St. Mary’s Convent, Ilchester, Maryland. Dean, thankfully, had found out where I was, and showed up to stop me. But Ruby saw him, and sealed the door behind him so he wouldn’t interrupt.

“I was high on power, because I’d drained a high-tier demon dry. I was able to dispose of the lackeys Lilith had brought with her, and gave her a full blast of my power, so I could crush her in her vessel, like I’d done with Alastair.”

“Wait, you were willing to kill a little girl just because she was Lilith’s host?” Tracy asked, heart stopping. Sam shook his head.

“She was using the form of a woman, not a girl.” He explained. “Anyways, I was ready to kill her, and was desperate to stop her from breaking the last seal she needed, since 65 of them were already broken. Then, for some reason, I heard Dean screaming. I didn’t know he was there, and I got distracted. Ruby was screaming at me, asking me what I was waiting for. And Lilith laughed, telling me I had turned myself into a freak, and a monster, and now I was not going to kill her. She said it was adorable.

“I snapped. I resumed crushing her, feeling my heart rate and temperature rise. I was pretty sure that, for a second, my eyes turned pure black, and I became a demon, as I crushed the life out of her. Eventually, it was finished. I thought I had averted the Apocalypse.

“Instead, Lilith’s blood began to flow out of her and form a circle on the floor. I asked Ruby what had happened, and she smirked and revealed that I’d freed Lucifer. I was confused, I thought killing Lilith would stop her from breaking any more seals. But Lilith and Ruby had been conspiring all this time, so when the time came, I’d destroy Lilith.”

“But why?” Aidan demanded. Sam gave another chilling smile.

“ _‘And it is written, that the First Demon shall be the last Seal.’_ ” He quoted. “Lilith knew it, Ruby knew it. The leading angels, like Zachariah, had known it. They just fed us lies, because they knew I’d screw it up.

“I have to hand it to her, Ruby played her game well. She first came on as a hard-ass, but still played to our humanity. She’d come and saved our asses, even when it meant certain danger for her. She risked her life to save an angel. She listened to my commands. None of the other demons except Lilith knew what Ruby was doing, so when they attacked her or tried killing her, it was believable. She’d switched games once she came back from Hell, using a vessel with no memories of it’s own, and pretended to be more human, and acted sympathetic and calm, except for the rare points when Dean pissed her off. Her personality only came back in full-swing towards the end, when she knew victory was certain.

“The blood was useless. It only made me stronger because I thought it did. In fact, it just made me attached to Ruby’s side, and drew a fission between Dean and I. When she admitted this to me, I tried to kill her, but I was exhausted from fighting Lilith. Dean burst in just in time, and we held her down together, and he finished her off.

“The cage was open. The room was filled with light. I was pretty sure we were about to die. Thankfully, we’d been transported onto a nearby plane in time, so we wouldn’t be vaporized. I’m not sure.

“So, yes. I trusted a demon, I started the Apocalypse, and I set Lucifer free. And got many people killed in the process.” His eyes met Tracy’s. “Including your family. And for that, I’m truly sorry, Tracy.” Tracy paused, tapping her foot and looking at the floor.

“You and your brother are both idiots.” She said finally. Her friends gave cries of outrage, while Sam shook his head.

“Blame me all you want. Dean had no part in it.”

“Not for that, Sam. For when you rescued me from Abaddon.” The man frowned, confused.

“How are we idiots for helping you?” She groaned inwardly. God, for someone who seemed so smart and intelligent, he acted stupid when it came to taking abuse.

“Not that. You let me rip you a new one, for starting the Apocalypse, when you didn’t even start it.”

“But I _did_ start it.” Sam said flatly. Tracy sighed with exhaustion. God, this guy was like a stupid puppy that came back to an owner who had just kicked it.

“Whatever. Agree to disagree.” She said finally. “How’d it stop.”

“Well, wasn’t easy. The angels were trying to force Dean and I to play our parts.” Seeing the frowns on their faces, he explained. “The prophecy was that the Archangels Michael and Lucifer had to fight, and that their battle would destroy one or the other, and end the Apocalypse, but it would also destroy a good portion of Earth’s population, before paradise could occur. It was preferable that they fight in their true vessels. Two brothers: Michael’s would be the good son, the righteous man. Lucifer would be the rebel, the monster, the freak, the disobedient brat. So, in other words, Dean and I.”

“Wait, ‘true vessels’?” Aidan repeated. Sam nodded.

“Yeah. Unlike Demons, not everyone fits an angel like a glove. There are bloodlines that were preferable to stick to. Using an improper vessel limits the power an angel can have. Using an unsuitable one causes the person to explode, or wear down.

“The angels and demons tried their hardest to get Dean and I to become the vessels. See, we can be stubborn jackasses at the best of times.” He gave a soft grin, and Tracy felt a familiar feeling of warmth spread through her. “Angels have the downside of not being able to use a vessel without their permission. Plus, once an angel has control, they can’t let go of it for a minute, unless they trust the vessel enough to not cast them out.

“But, yeah. We went around trying to stop the chaos. We had angels, demons, and even the rare God or witch trying to use us so we could become valuable bargain chips. When it wasn’t something supernatural, it was hunters. Some tried to force-feed me demon blood (which I’d miraculously been detoxed from), and others shot Dean and I in our beds. Unfortunately, the angels resurrected us right away.

“The plans to stop Lucifer weren’t working out. The first idea was to find God, so he could stop this. Plan number 2, which was find the Colt (it got stolen from us by a thief working to save her own ass), was closer. We got Lucifer and shot him, but, according to him, he was only one of 5 things in Creation it didn’t work on. So, we’d wasted our friends Ellen and Jo, for a waste.

“I even tried killing myself.” Sam confessed nonchalantly, ignoring the sad looks the four hunters gave each other. “Hoped they couldn’t resurrect me. Didn’t work out the first time, or the second time, or the third time. So, I gave up.

“Anna, the fallen angel we’d met and saved before, eventually came up with her own plan. Kill me, and scatter my remains as far as she could, down to the cell, so angels couldn’t resurrect me. I was perfectly fine going along with that. Unfortunately, Dean and Castiel were not.”

“Huh, no kidding.” Krissy growled.

“She then decided going back in time to kill our parents, in 1978.”

“Wait, they can travel through time?” Tracy interrupted. Sam nodded.

“It was before Dean was even born. I was, to say the least, less okay with that plan.” Sam paused. “It was weird, seeing our Mom and Dad at a young age. Dean had been sent back in time by the Angels before, and had met both of them. Even if our Dad had his memory wiped. Mary, our mom, wasn’t too happy to see him, because she remembered him being there about the time Azazel killed her parents and forced her into a deal to resurrect our Dad. So, saving them from Anna was hard, considering she didn’t want to cooperate until we had told her the truth. So, we pulled her aside to explain everything to her. About who we were. And then tried to make her leave our dad.”

“What?” Aidan demanded. “Why the hell’d you do that?” Sam shrugged.

“Retroactive erasure.” He explained. “Similar to Anna’s plan, we’d fade out of existence, and stop the Apocalypse before I could set it off. It just didn’t have to involve our parents’ deaths.”

“Unfortunately, Michael wasn’t having it. He caught up in time to destroy Anna completely, and wiped our parents’ memories so nothing could change. Not our births, not our Dad’s death, and especially not our mom’s death. Then, he sent us back.”

“The whole thing was looking grim. Not only did Dean and I have no assistance from any supernatural entity besides Castiel, but no one trusted me.”

“That’s not-”

“It is. I tried talking Castiel out of killing the anti-christ…don’t give me that look, he was 10! And I had to believe someone could escape their fate, so why not an innocent?” He argued when he saw their expressions. “He made it clear that _I_ had broken the world, _I_ had started the Apocalypse, and _I_ couldn’t resist my fate, so why should the Anti-Christ be able to? And Gabriel, an Archangel we ran into before who we originally thought was just a Trickster, said something similar, about how we had to suck it up and accept the roles that Destiny chose for us. Then again,” Sam paused, frowning. “It shouldn’t be so surprising he was unhelpful at first, since before Dean went to hell, he put me in a time-loop.”

“Like Groundhog’s day?” Jo asked. Sam nodded.

“Except I had to witness Dean die around 100 times in a row.” He said. “When I eventually figured out that it was the Trickster we thought we had killed a few months before, I confronted him and forced him to end the vision. But, he screwed me over, and killed Dean the next day, and I went into a 6 month long rampage trying to hunt him down, so he would release me from the hallucination. Then he gave some crap about how he was ‘Trying to teach me a lesson’ to stop saving Dean, to stop continuing our cycle of sacrificing ourselves for each other, and how nothing good would come out of it.”

“But he was trying to teach you a lesson to get over your brother’s loss.” Krissy pointed out. “So he couldn’t be all bad, could he?”

“Except considering that he was a semi-omnipotent being, high above the power of most angels or demons, and the only things above his power would be Lucifer, Michael, God, Death, and Darkness.” Sam countered. “He tortured me, psychologically, to try to get me to stop saving Dean, when it was well within his power to save Dean’s soul from Hell, and the first seal’s breaking, and the Apocalypse itself. So, that ‘lesson’ was kind of bullshit.” Pausing for a minute, he frowned. “Damn, got off tangent. Anyways, where was I?”

“No one was trusting you.” Tracy clarified. Sam nodded.

“Right. So, Cass was reminding me how I broke the world, and didn’t trust me to make my own choices. Gabriel was trying to force me to accept my role, and also pretty much reminded me how I broke the world. And Dean…” He froze. “Dean was angry, and scared. He was scared I’d fall off the wagon of my demon blood addiction, thought I didn’t learn my mistake. He was quick to remind me of my mistakes, all the time, as well as talk to other people behind my back. He’d remind me of how I chose Ruby over him.” Sam’s eyes were on the floor once more. “He rationalized it as ‘Choosing a demon over your own brother.’, and I gave him some crap about how I went with Ruby because I felt empowered. I definitely didn’t want to tell my brother I’d fallen in love with a demon, cause I knew he would ditch me as fast as he could.” Sam gave a huff. “Mostly, he was afraid I would say yes. To Lucifer. And all along the way, Dean never hesitated to remind me that he didn’t trust me one bit.”

“Wait.” Krissy interjected. “I’ve been hearing all this stuff about how you guys screwed up, but you still haven’t explained how the Apocalypse got stopped.”

“Oh, that.” The hunter said. “So, the start of the Apocalypse resulted in the reemergence of the Four Horsemen. Gabriel, after a lot of harsh words from Dean about how he was too cowardly to stand up to his brothers, decided to give us a plan to stop Lucifer through them.

“The Four Horsemen each had their own ring. It gave them their powers. We already had obtained War’s and Famine’s, and after a bit of struggle, we got Pestilence’s and Death’s. Death, who’d been resentfully bound to Lucifer, really couldn’t care either way, but decided to give Dean his ring, because he saw Lucifer as a brat who needed to be taught a lesson. He gave a spell, and made Dean promise that he would do everything in his power to put Lucifer back in, no matter the cost.

“I decided I’d say yes to Lucifer, chocked full of demon blood so I could hold him as a vessel (that was why Ruby fed me it in the first place). I’d attempt to take control, because Bobby had done it before when he was possessed by a demon. I’d open the Cage, using Death’s spell and the four rings, and jump in.

“Unfortunately, Lucifer figured out our plan, and once I said yes, he stole the four rings and took me on a rampage. Dean figured out the location of the cemetery where Michael and Lucifer would meet, and with Cass and Bobby in tow, he went there to stop it. So, Michael was pissed that Dean was there-”

“Wait, wasn’t Dean Michael’s vessel?”

“True Vessel.” Sam corrected. “Lucifer’d been walking the Earth in a substitute, a guy named Nick. But, since he wasn’t directly related to us, he was quickly disintegrating, and Lucifer had to drink Demon blood in heavy quantities to contain his form. Michael decided since he couldn’t have Dean, he’d have the next best thing. Our half-brother, Adam.”

“Half-brother?” Tracy asked.

“Yeah. Our Dad was working a ghoul case a few years after he started, and had an illegitimate son with a woman who helped him closely on it. He decided to not ruin his third son’s life in the same way he had ruined his first two. Anyways, after Dean returned from hell and before the Apocalypse, we were contacted by Adam, who was trying to speak to John Winchester. We went there, found out about the case, and later discovered Adam was really a ghoul who’s parents had been killed by our Dad, and wanted revenge by killing anyone who had a part in it. Adam had been dead before we even met him.”

“Gosh, so many off-tangent add-on stories.” Krissy muttered. Sam huffed.

“Yeah. So, Adam had been resurrected, and the angels were going to get him to say yes. We tried talking him out of it, and when the angels held him captive, we had rescued him for a hot second, but eventually he said yes.

“Anyways, so Dean comes in before Michael and Lucifer can fight it out. Castiel molotvs Michael with Holy Fire, to make him flee for Dean to have a chance to talk it out with Lucifer. Lucifer makes Cass explode with a snap of his fingers, breaks Bobby’s neck. Then, he starts beating the crap out of Dean. Dean tries to talk to me, directly. Lucifer is five seconds away from killing him.”

“What made you take control?” Tracy asked. Sam chuckled softly, raising an eyebrow.

“Would you believe me if I told you it was a little toy soldier?” He asked. She shook her head.

“Probably not. Why?” Sam smiled softly.

“In the backseat of the Impala, a toy soldier was jammed in the side-container. Dean, or maybe me, did that when we were kids. The reflection hit my eyes, and broke Lucifer’s concentration. I remembered everything we’ve ever done. I remembered who I was about to kill, and why I was there, and was able to activate the spell, and jump into the pit, pulling Michael in behind me.”

“So, what was the escape plan?” Krissy demanded. Sam shook his head.

“I never meant to get out. I made Dean promise to not try anything, and to go live a normal life. The normal life I tried to have at Stanford.”

“So, you went to Hell.” Tracy inquired for clarification. Sam gave a nod. “You thought you’d never get out.” He gave another nod. “And you were aware that the Devil would be pissed off and probably take his anger out on you.”

“I didn’t think he’d be exactly cheery.” Sam agreed. “But I deserved as much. I started the Apocalypse and cost many people their lives. Only seemed fair.”

“Your soul would leave, wouldn’t it, though?” Aidan asked. “I mean, once your body died.”

“Angels are nothing but spirit, and the cage still holds them. I knew I was there to stay. But I didn’t stay there for long. I was pulled out maybe a half a day later. Just…not completely.”

“Meaning?”

“I'll explain it later. Anyways, I left Dean alone to live his life with a woman he met before, Lisa, and her son, Ben. I met up with some distant relatives of my Mom. Hunters. They were being led by Samuel, my grandfather.”

“Didn’t he die? Like, 10 years before you were even born?” Josephine asked.

“Well, didn’t seem to be putting a dent in his social life.” Sam said, causing them to snigger. “I explained who I was, what I’d done, and the working theory was that whatever pulled me up pulled him down.

“I should’ve noticed something was wrong when I realized I didn’t sleep. When blood didn’t put me off in the same way. But I said nothing, because I realized that if a family of Hunters since birth thought I was less than human, even if we were related, they’d kill me without hesitation.

“Tracking a group of Jinn about a year after the Apocalypse, I had to reveal to Dean I was alive and out of the pit. We started hunting together, even though he had to leave his new family behind, and unfortunately he realized something was up. We’d been a hunt for a ring of vampires, and he got turned, before finding into the vamp’s nest, and Samuel and I were able to cure Dean. Somewhere, in the corner of his mind, he remembered me standing on the sidelines and doing nothing as he got turned. So, he freaked out, thought that I was some kind of monster, and beat me into unconscious when I admitted that I had let him get turned.

“He had our angel friend, Castiel (he got resurrected quickly after I had fallen into the pit, by God, apparently) to diagnose me. Whoever resurrected me had left my soul back in the Cage.

“Without a soul, I wasn’t the same. Certain spells, like truth spells, didn’t work on me. More importantly, I lacked empathy. I had let Dean get turned regardless of the consequences, because I knew he could find a way into the vampire nest, and then get the cure. I had let a man be bait for an Arachne. I attacked without hesitation. I shot a woman who was being used as a human shield by a vamp.” Sam looked somewhat sick. “That all haunts me now. But, Dean couldn’t trust me, not really. He was willing to lock me up since I was a caution hazard. I was able to convince him to let me roll with him, as long as he called all the shots.”

“So, nothing you weren’t used to before.” Tracy said. Sam smiled sadly.

“Turns out, our grandfather had been resurrected by Crowley, the King of Hell, a demon who had helped us avert the Apocalypse. Samuel was catching monsters, and giving them to Crowley, who was in turn torturing them so he could find the location of Purgatory.”

“Where God put the Leviathans?” Tracy repeated. Sam gave a nod.

“Yeah, nothing at all like Dante described. Any intelligent being that isn’t a human, demon, god, or angel goes there on the point of their death, regardless of whether they were good or evil. And our grandfather was all too happy to help.”

“Why? Wouldn’t a hunter of all people know not to be a demon’s slave?” Krissy asked. Sam shrugged.

“Crowley promised to restore my mother to life.” He answered. “Samuel and Deanna were born and bred hunters. They knew it was likely that their parents, their cousins, their siblings, and even each other, could be dead at any time. Losing a child, though…that was something he wasn’t prepared for.

“My brother and I, to say the least, were not too happy to find out we'd been helping Crowley. After all, he held Bobby’s soul hostage after making a deal with him to help us catch the Horsemen, when he promised to return it. So, we high-tailed it out of there. Crowley wasn’t having it. He told us he had raised me from hell, and unless we did exactly as he said, he was going to throw me back in. On the plus side, if we served him, he’d retrieve my soul. A win-win. Dean has his real brother back, and I could have my soul back.” Tracy frowned, feeling confused.

“Why would you care?” She asked. “I mean, if you were truly apathetic, why would you care about having your soul?” Pulling a face, Sam concentrated.

“Well, it’s confusing _now_ , since it wasn’t really _my_ mind. Other soulless people are different. They're uninhibited, and they just do anything on impulse. But, as far as I understand, all of my decisions were made to ensure my direct survival. Waiting a year before revealing myself to Dean was partially because I knew he’d grab the reigns and get in my way, and partially because he’d be more acute of my actions. Hunting was favorable to not hunting, because I could eliminate as many threats as possible, and keep myself safe. If I accidentally dispensed someone else,” Sam shrugged. “Oh well. Hiding my issues from the Campbells and Dean, pretending to be normal, was so they wouldn’t turn on me. Working with Dean on cases the Campbells gave me was because I knew he’d do his best to protect his little brother, and I was also arrogant enough to think he’d be too stupid to notice the way I was acting. Leaving the Campbells was because I’d seen a high amount of my cousins and relatives die under Samuel’s leadership, and the person he’d been doing it for, even though she was my Mom, was already dead 30 years. Trying to get my soul back was so I wouldn’t have to put up a façade and worry about a hunter ganking me.” He paused for a minute. “The one thing I didn’t get was the sex”

As soon as the words left his mouth, Sam froze in horror. Tracy felt herself smirk watching his face turn beet-red.

“God, did I really just say that?” He moaned. She chuckled.

“What, sex was good so you decided to have it?” She inquired. Sam shook his head, turning darker.

“Can we just skip past it?” He begged.

“Why? _You_ didn’t.” Krissy countered, causing the other three to roar with laughter. Sam sighed.

“Am I really going to have this conversation with 4 teenagers?” Sam murmured aloud. After some internal debate, he turned to them.

“So, I had random sex more times in the year and a half without a soul than I had had since I started hunting again. I guess that was obvious, because of Jess.” He frowned. “Dean’s the big one on meaningless sex. I’d had most of mine in the first two years of college. I was bigger on real connection with people.

“I don’t get why I would have sex when soulless, because I had no desire, and sex didn’t help me directly. I understand the factors that when into ‘The Selection’, but not the need.”

“What do you mean, ‘The Selection’?” Josephine demanded. Sam sighed.

“Selection as in selecting a partner. As a muscular dude in my prime, I had to pick a girl who was considered attractive. Not because I personally care, but that was what everyone expected of me. When I was with Samuel, I usually made a point of picking women inside my own ethnicity, because I figured, given that he was a man from Kansas who hadn’t been alive since the early seventies, he might have a subtle thing against interracial dating. I could be more open around Dean. And, of course, the woman had to be consenting for a casual one-night thing, because that’s in the best case misleading, which makes me seem  more of an asshole, and in the worst case, rape, which puts me in prison.”

“So, you were confused on why you only picked women?” Tracy asked. Josephine, Krissy, and Aidan turned to Sam, who glared at her.

“Thanks, Tracy.” He grumbled, face turning pink. “Anyways, yes. My hook-ups in college weren’t always with a girl. I still hide it from Dean, because I know he’d tease me, or else get a little weirded out and it might take a few days (weeks, months, years) for him to wrap his head around it.. But it wouldn’t make sense for Soulless Sam to. For Samuel, sure, because if someone has a problem with interracial dating they definitely have a problem with non-heterosexuality. I had an excuse for random hook-ups, because I was a hunter, and a young guy, and relationships were out of the question. But anything other than a pretty young white girl would be ‘unnatural’ for him. But with Dean, though, I don’t get why I would care. Sure, he’d tease me, but that’s nothing negatively impacting me.”

“Maybe if it was for survival, it was procreation?” Josephine winced. “Spreading roots?” Sam shook his head.

“Nope. Probably had to do with just public image in general. Sure, it wouldn’t make me seem moral to most, but at least I would seem…ordinary. Anyways, we started following Crowley’s orders. Bringing in monsters, following orders. He was no closer to giving me my soul back. So, we went with an unlikely ally. Meg.

“The demon from earlier?” Tracy asked. Sam shrugged.

“Well, ‘Better the devil you know’ doesn’t really apply well to us. Ever. I mean, we _knew_ Meg, but that was as Azazel’s follower to help him incite the Apocalypse, and then as Lucifer’s follower when we were _in_ the Apocalypse. And she’d tried to lure our Dad into a trap, and possessed me after we exorcised her from the original body she used. We hadn’t known Crowely when we worked with him, but he had given us the Colt, and helped us find Death and the other Horsemen. However, he was threatening and bribing us, and tried to hold Bobby’s soul captive. So, the phrasing would be ‘Better the devil who has less to gain over you.’ We went with Meg, raided Crowley’s hideout, and tried to force him to give me my soul back. He explained it might permanently traumatize me, make me a vegetable, but Dean wasn’t really listening, and had Castiel burn his mortal bones, which destroys any demon.

“Dean was desperate, so he finally realized he could call on Death, the Horseman. Death wasn’t really impressed, but even after Dean failed his challenge…to be Death itself for a day…Death restored my soul. I wasn’t willing, really. Soulless Me realized I would most likely die when my soul was reintroduced to my body, and that Dean didn’t care about the consequences, as long as he got his brother back. I even tried killing Bobby, because I was given a spell to prevent my soul’s restoration, and it called for the blood of the father.” Krissy frowned

“Bobby wasn’t your Dad, though. Your Dad was dead. And, actually, so was Bobby. Didn’t Lucifer snap his neck?” Sam shook his head.

“Yeah, Dad was dead, but since God resurrected Castiel, Castiel was able to resurrect Bobby.” He explained. “But a spell for the soul wasn’t as specific. The exact wording was, ‘You need the Blood of the Father, but the Father needn’t be blood.’ Anyways, Dean stopped me, and Death put my soul back in. With a wall, to block my memories of hell. A year and a half without my soul had come to an end.”

“What about your brother? Adam?” Sam bit his lip, a look of pure hatred boiling beneath the surface, which terrified her out of her mind. She vaguely remembered what Lucifer had said the night before, of how Adam had pretty much turned on Sam in the Cage.

“Dean tried getting him out, but Death offered to transport only one. Hunter brother who has been with you since forever, and who went to hell to stop the mistake he made, or Useless half-brother you only met once, who made it clear he didn’t want to be a part of your family, and also was willing to help carry out the Apocalypse and destroy the rest of humanity, just so he could share heaven with his mom. Such a tough decision.”

“You didn’t try to free him after?” Sam shrugged.

“Dean hasn’t really set time aside when we have so much on our plate, on a daily, nonstop basis. Cass really has bigger things to worry about than a human he met once, who made a choice of his own free will. And I have looked at almost every option, and none of them would work without risk of another Apocalypse, and I honestly could give two fucks about Adam after what went down in the Cage. End of discussion.” He snapped. Sitting back, she decided not to bite further.

“Anyways, I didn’t remember anything from the past year. Dean wasn’t telling me, either, and told Bobby not to, so I had to find out by asking Cass. Dean tried his hardest to prevent me from looking for answers, because he wanted to shield me from the truth, like a little lost puppy. I’m kind of a stubborn guy, especially when it comes to feeling guilty, so I tried digging around in a town where I had been hunting an Arachne. The same one I had given a man to as bait. Things came to a head, and my wall let loose some memories. I passed out for around a week, spent in flames and agony, only to be woken by Dean, who told me it had only been 2 or 3 minutes. So, he basically decided he was going to coerce me into not looking for answers anymore. I had been doing research on the Cage, and decided it wouldn’t be good to continue, since I might crack the wall.”

“Would have been better to not put it back in the first place.” Aidan muttered. Sam raised an eyebrow.

“Maybe. He could’ve had Death deliver my soul to Heaven, and just kill Soulless me and have it done with. But Dean only saw two options: Leave me in Hell, or Rejoin my body and soul. Despite the fact everyone was telling him not to do it, I agree he made the better choice of the two options. I’d rather be a vegetable than in the Cage.”

There was silence. Tracy knew the question on her mind, but exactly know how to ask it.

“So…the Dream?” She said finally. Sam winced.

“Sorry about that. That’s why I stay up most nights. The nightmares are violent enough, but they tend to project.”

“Why are you apologizing?” Asked Krissy, who sounded rather angry. “You had 180 years of that.” Sam smiled softly.

“Believe me, I’d give for just 180 years of it.” Tracy raised an eyebrow.

“You said that Dean said Hell Time was 120 days for every day on Earth. A decade a month. You were in the Cage for a year and a half, that’s 180 years in Hell time.” The hunter looked at his feet awkwardly.

“The Cage….was built different from the rest of Hell. It couldn’t even be accessed from Hell, unlike it’s other parts. It was built before it, before God decided to cast in all the infernal souls. Time flows differently in the Cage, just as it does in Hell in comparison to Earth.

“I was never coherent enough to keep track of time in the Cage, because it was just agony after agony. But I knew, the first time my wall cracked, I had been unconscious for a week. So, I did a little math, and got a basic estimate.”

“And?” Sam gave a sigh.

“I really don’t want to make you have second-hand trauma, guys.” He argued. But a glare from Tracy made him relent.

“Dean said 2 to 3 minutes. So, if a week in the Cage was 3 minutes, a 1440 minute day on Earth was 480 weeks, which is 3,360 days, and 9 and one fifth of a year. Dean had counted every day, and said it was at least a year and a half, or 547 days, since I had jumped in. In the Cage, that’s 5,037 years, and some loose change.”

There was a shriek beside her, and Tracy turned to see Krissy, white as a ghost. Tears were flowing down her cheeks, her hands covering her mouth. Aidan had wrapped an arm around his girlfriend, patting her shoulder and trying to calm her down. Josephine looked exhausted as well. She and Aidan had confessed to seeing images, and hearing the conversation, but their room was far away enough from Sam’s to not have experienced the actual sensations. They hadn’t felt what Krissy and Tracy felt.

“If a week in the Cage was 2 minutes, a 1440 minute day on Earth is 720 weeks, which is 5040 days, which is 13 and four fifths of a year. That makes-”

“Don’t.” Tracy snarled. Sam turned slowly to her, and the pain she had seen in those hazel eyes before made infinite sense to her now, with startling clarity. Tears began to flow down her cheeks, and she felt herself slowly break down. She was full-out bawling. As she cried, a warm sensation surrounded her, and she found herself in the embrace of Sam Winchester. He looked slightly awkward, holding someone who was crying for _his_ pain, especially when she barely knew him two days ago except as an enemy.

“547 days..” He whispered softly. “Would be around 7 and a half millennia. But it’s over, Tracy; and I’m not worth crying for.”

“Why didn’t you say before?” She choked, slamming a fist into his chest (she had no idea why she was hitting Sam Winchester, especially when his chest was like solid rock). “Half the hunting community thinks you let loose the Devil on purpose, and that you got off Scot-free. And you and your brother say nothing about the punishment. Why?” Sam shrugged.

“Dean probably assumes it was 180 years, and tries to push it out of his mind because it bothers him. I didn’t bother correcting him, because I knew it would hurt him, and I'm also just not sure. I mean, Archangels can manipulate time however they want. Gabriel made me relive the same day over and over, and then made me live 6 months separate from everything else in the universe, before sending me back like no time had passed. I could've been in the Cage for over a trillion years for all I know.” Sam said this in the most calm and reassuring voice Tracy had ever heard, and yet the words almost made her vomit. “I didn’t tell him anything about the memories from the Cage, because I knew he wanted to pretend they didn’t exist. And anger is a justified feeling for someone being stupid. It’s often not rationed with. Trust me, I know.” She snorted, wiping her eyes on his T-shirt (which was comfortably warm). He made his way back to his seat, whether because it was uncomfortable to be hugging a crying practical stranger, or because it was easier to tell a story, she didn’t know.

“Why’d your wall crack?” She asked eventually, throat hoarse.

“It’s complicated. To make it short (believe me, I know that the story’s been long, but this has only been the halfway point), after several weeks of having my soul back, Dean and I caught rumors of an entity called Eve.”

“The one you mentioned earlier. Created before the angels. Not like Eve the first woman?” Krissy asked with a frown.

“Well, Lilith was technically the first woman, but this Eve originally had no name. God decided she was unworthy of one, since she had not helped in the fight against the Darkness. So, to spite him, she took on the name Eve, as a sort of blasphemy. Anyways, she walked the Earth up until 10,000 years ago, when God saw she was altering his favored creation of humanity.”

“Altering?” Aidan sat forward in his chair, listening intently.

“Eve’s called the mother of all. Any creature you ever hunted...Vamps, Skinwalkers, Werewolves, Shapeshifters, Djinn, Ghouls, Wraiths…they owe their lineage to either a genetic ancestor, or the first person afflicted with their disease. The Alpha. Each Alpha monster was, in turn, created by Eve.

“So, anyways, Eve was back on Earth again, causing chaos. Creating new monsters. She blamed Crowley, even though we thought we’d killed him, and she revealed that Crowley’s plot to find Purgatory was because he wanted to use the powers of the souls within to siphon enough energy. He had been fighting a war with Lucifer’s loyalists.

“After ganking Eve, we were kind of confused on how Crowley could be alive when Castiel had burned his bones. We started to not trust our angel friend, and the final straw had been when we asked a couple questions, with him repeating an exact line one of us had said in private, showing that he’d spied on us.

“He spared Crowley because they had been working together to find Purgatory. With Michael, the Leader of the Heavenly Host, gone, Cass was in a Civil War for power with Raphael, the last remaining Archangel, who wanted to resume the Apocalypse by freeing Michael and Lucifer. He asked us to trust him, and eventually revealed _he_ had been the one to raise my physical body from hell, but it was too late. The trust was gone.”

“So, you just turned on him?” Josephine asked, accusatorily. “After all he’d done for you?”

“Why wouldn’t we?” Sam asked with a frown.

“He was fighting a Civil War against the most powerful angel in Heaven.” Krissy said. “He was a little desperate, don’t you think?”

“He could’ve asked us for help.” The hunter countered.

“What could you guys do? You guys are human, and it was a war in _heaven_. Against an Archangel.” Aidan said.

“Funny, before that point we had helped put 4 major demons, 3 of the Horsemen, and 2 Archangels infinitely more powerful than the one Cass was fighting out of commission. Cass didn’t even try involving us.”

“Maybe he didn’t want to involve you?” Tracy offered.

“That would work, for Dean, originally. But I had been hunting since I got back, Dean had been hunting for about a half a year, and us and the Campbells ended up doing the majority of their dirty work. Cass had no problem using us as grunts, but didn’t try having us help directly. Once we were back in the hunting gig, he could have just turned on Crowley and found another way. And, in fact, fixing the chaos caused by Eve was actually us _cleaning up_ the mess Cass and Crowley had created.”

“He does you favors all the time, though. Takes you back in time, runs errands, finds out info. How is it fair for him to be your errand boy, but not for you to be his?” Josephine asked, sounding a little irritated.

“We actually let Cass in on the loop. We don’t hide behind a curtain, like the Wizard of Oz. He’s the only supernatural entity on speed dial, so he’s the easiest resource. Most of our ideas don’t involve sending him directly to the danger, at least without one or both of us. But his plan was drawing most of the violence towards us: Eve, Crowley, Meg. Hell, he even tried to pull this crap by unsinking the Titanic. It ended up having Fate on our ass. He never said a thing. Plus, our plans, our ‘victories’? They just reset the game back to default. Every battle, every instance, every win in our lives? It’s just the absence of negatives. If we’re lucky. Usually, it’s the one with the least amount of human life lost, and just personal loss for us. Cass was betraying us to Crowley, so he could double-cross Crowley, and take all the power of the souls of Purgatory, kill Raphael, become the new God, and rule heaven and humanity. Cass kept working with Crowley, even after Crowley had threatened our surrogate Dad, my own soul, and even gone as far to abduct the woman and kid Dean had stayed with when he took his year off.

“So, before we could stop him, Castiel cracked my wall. Figured me going insane would put Dean and Bobby off his trail. Dean and Bobby had to leave me, and I essentially was able to regain enough of my sanity by merging with the two other parts of me (the one that remembered hell and the one who didn’t have a soul) We got to the final fight, just in time to see Castiel destroy Raphael with a snap of his fingers.

“Cass pretty much threatened to kill us, and then went on a rampage to destroy any human he considered sinful, or blasphemous. His vessel began to disintegrate, and we’d found out along with souls of monsters, he’d also pulled out the Primordial Leviathans.

“We had Cass calm down long enough to shove the souls back into Purgatory, but the Leviathans stayed, and released themselves onto the Earth in the form of an inky black liquid. Any human who ingested the liquid became a Leviathan. Douchebag Shapeshifters who wanted to eat anything and everything, all the time, and were virtually indestructible, their only weaknesses being removing the head far away from the body, showering them with Borax, or one of them eating another.

“I hadn’t healed fully, so Dean was kind of wary of me, as I was seeing Lucifer to the point I couldn’t distinguish reality from hallucination. We had a temporary solution to my problem, by using a cut on my hand to force the visions to disappear. But when Bobby was shot in the head, we lost pretty much all direction. That was when I met you,” His eyes flickered to Krissy. “Dean was too involved in the Leviathan case to really care about anyone else, and he was all wrapped up in his grief about Bobby. That’s why I came to help you first.” The girl’s face was one of pure shock.

“Anyways, I had accidentally gotten separated from Dean on a case, and my hallucinated version of Lucifer was able to help me. I was dumb enough to accept it, and then I couldn’t lock him out, or any of the other hallucinations inflicted on me. I couldn’t sleep, was eventually up 4 days straight, and got locked in a mental institution, before Dean found Cass and made him absorb my hallucinations. We left Cass (even though I really didn’t want to) to try and find out more about the Leviathans.

“Their master plan was to turn humankind into couch potatoes and have them be farmed for food. We found a way to destroy them in a tablet left by God. The Leviathans had been stupid enough to uncover it, but when we got our hands on it, we also found the new Prophet, who was able to translate.” Sam smiled. “Kevin Tran, in Advanced Placement. Short little guy, A+ student. Wanted to go off to Princeton, become the first Asian American President.

“The main weapon to kill the Leviathan was ‘The Bone of the Righteous Mortal Washed in the Three Bloods of Fallen.’ Just take a bone from a righteous human (A Nun, in our case) and coat it in the blood of a Fallen Angel, Castiel, the King of Fallen Humanity, Crowley, and the Father of Fallen Beasts, which had to be the last Alpha, the Alpha Vamp.

“After getting the weapon, Dean kind of coerced Castiel into helping us stop the Leviathans, even though Cass’ mental state was fragile, and he didn’t want to fight.”

“That’s cruel!” Tracy shouted. Sam gave a nod.

“Absolutely. Dean went about it the wrong way, 100%. But he wasn’t exactly wrong to. Cass had created this mess, and he was trying to have us clean it up. That was beyond unfair. Anyways, Bobby’d become a ghost, and he had started becoming vengeful against Dick Roman, who became the Leviathan’s leader. I warned Dean we had to destroy the flask tethering him to the Earth, and we eventually had to, after he possessed a woman and went to take on the Leviathan that killed him. The day after, with help from Meg, Crowley and Castiel, we stormed the Leviathan fortress, and Dean and Cass stab Dick Roman. Problem was, when you stand too close to a dying Leviathan, killed by a Weapon of God, they explode, and you get sent to Purgatory.” They paused in silence

“So….what happened?” Krissy asked. Sam shrugged.

“Dean and Cass went to Purgatory. Crowley, who had helped us fight Dick Roman, turned out to want The Prophet. So, the minute the Leviathans were defeated, he made off with Kevin, along with Meg. And, for the first time, I was really alone.”

“How’d you save Dean?” Demanded Tracy.

“I didn’t. I ran.” They gave him incredulous looks, and he held up his hands in defense. “There wasn’t exactly a pamphlet on ‘Places your brother might be when he slays the Leviathan leader’. I assumed the explosion had killed him, and pretty much the same thing for Castiel. Bobby was dead, and, since I’m practically a monster myself, I couldn’t really depend on any hunter alive to help me rather than hunt me, what with Big Brother and Head Honcho gone. Kevin was with Crowley, most likely well guarded, and since he was a Prophet of the Lord, I’d figured angels would be working hard to free him. And, given our history, I didn’t trust Meg enough as an ally to try rescuing her. Especially when the next thing after freeing her for me would be going back into Crowley’s base to free Kevin. So, I quit.” Tracy gave him a shocked expression.

“Quit hunting.” Sam gave an affirmative nod. “Why?”

“Killing things wasn’t much of a family business, especially if the business had things killing the whole family.” He answered. “I served what I figured was my time. Done a good bit of hunting and saving, despite strong adversity from even other hunters. Stopped Armageddon and went to hell for it. Killed several ancient things, including a Primordial Monster. Screwed with the plans of Angels, monsters, and demons alike to bring about the end of mankind. And the only thing I had to show for it was a row of tombstones, filled with friends and family. So, I didn’t hunt any more. I ran away.

“Dean was pretty pissed when he was back from Purgatory. He pretty much expected me to drop the life I’d built, and help him find Kevin. He had a mountain of secrets he was hiding, and I felt kind of shafted. But, either way, I did as he said, and we went to save Kevin. Kev revealed this whole Trials of God thing, designed to close the gates of hell, seal demons within for all eternity. Dean, who I guess felt guilty for the way he had treated me, wanted to do it, and die, so I could live an ordinary life. I wanted to do it, and live, so Dean could have an ordinary life alongside me. After Dean failed the first trial, to kill a hellhound and bathe in it’s blood, when I had succeeded, instead of having us look for another hellhound, I took on the trials.

“The second trial was to free an innocent soul from Hell. So, my choices were Bobby, who was in the normal part, and Adam.” Sam huffed, a bitter look on his face. “Guess who I chose.” They said nothing. He shrugged it off. “Anyways, Bobby had been dragged down to hell by Crowley, even when he had gotten his soul back. Dean and I had a rogue Reaper take me down to hell through Purgatory, and I nabbed him. We almost got stuck in Purgatory when Crowley had killed the Reaper who had brought me there, but thankfully Dean sent down Benny.

“Benny?”

“Vampire who’d died a while before our time. He was one of Dean’s secrets. The vampire had found him in Purgatory, and helped him to a portal, in exchange for a ride out. I didn’t really trust him, because Dean had intentionally hid him from me, and also made it clear that he found a vampire he’d known for a year more reliable than his own brother. There were times it looked like Benny had been feeding, and I wanted to confront him, but Dean expected me to go on his word alone, when he had never, _ever_ gone on mine. He went so far as to send a distress signal through the contact of a woman I’d lived with, Amelia, so I would think she was in danger and leave Benny alone. But nonetheless, Benny helped me find the way out, at the cost of staying there.

“Dean realized the trials were slowly destroying me. My health suffered. I was fainting. I could barely pay attention most times. We were almost unprepared for the final trial: Cure a demon.” He smiled weakly at their raised eyebrows. “Crowley wasn’t so eager to have us seal all demons in hell. So, he started killing people we had saved. We baited him later, convincing him we would stop, then caught him and decided he was going to be the demon we cured.

“We dragged him into a church, and I ‘purified’ my blood, and I began feeding it to him, once every hour for 8 hours, in accordance with the ritual. Dean had left to help Cass, who was AWOL at the time, and I got down to the last hour, the last minute.

“Dean came rushing in, begging me to stop the trial, because it would kill me. He almost cried when I said ‘So?’ ” Tracy felt her heart lodge in her throat. “Even if I wanted to live an ordinary life, it was more important to me that other people didn’t share the same fate I had so far. I tried to get him to see the big picture. Let him know I didn’t want to let him down again. Since you’re still hearing from the black-eyed bastards, you guys can guess who won that fight. I stopped the trials. Kept the gates of hell open, and the demons on earth.

“The issues just climbed up from there. Metatron, the scribe of God, had fooled our friend Castiel into giving the ingredients to a spell that would cast all the angels from heaven: That was the worldwide meteor shower you saw.

“Abaddon, a Knight of Hell, handpicked by Lucifer himself, had become a major playing figure. The whole world had thought she was dead, because she had been gone since before 1960. The truth was that she had ended up jumping forth in time to present day, after our grandfather used a spell to find us and help him preserve an organization called the Men of Letters- _don’t…_ ” He added sharply, glaring at their confused looks. “..ask. They’re a group of sexist, chauvinist, elitist pigs who think Hunters are lower than them. The only thing that makes them useful is their info.

“I’d been dying, even after stopping the trials, so Dean tricked me into letting an angel possess me, right as I was ready to cross over. After realizing the angel was not exactly who he said he was, Dean tried to get me to cast him out. Unfortunately, the angel, Gadreel, had overheard him. Gadreel was working with Metatron, to regain his honor from being the one who had failed to guard Eden. So, he decided it was better to lock me away within my mind. I went on a rampage.” His face looked pale. “I killed Kevin.”

“Dean got to work a deal with Crowley. If the demon could get Gadreel out, Dean would help him stop Abaddon from usurping his throne in hell. When Crowley kept his end, Dean followed him. Especially when I basically said that I would not save him in the same way he saved me.”

“How could you say that?” Krissy asked, somewhat hurt. “He’s your brother.” Sam raised an eyebrow.

“Dean knew I was opposed to being possessed, for good reason. He decided mind-rape to continue suffering was preferable to peaceful death. _He_ decided. And Dean has never been possessed, not in the same ways I have. He’s had his emotions controlled, sure. But I’ve actually had something rip my mind out, and shove it’s own in.”

“So, when I was trying to track Gadreel and fix the mess I’d made, Dean went with Crowley to find the demon, Cain. Same one I mentioned earlier.”

“This….is starting to come full circle.” Tracy commented with realization. Sam nodded.

“Cain had hidden the First Blade, but decided to give Dean the mark of Cain so he could kill Abaddon. Abaddon was his pupil, and the only other Knight of Hell besides him who had survived, because Cain killed them all when they had captured his wife. He transferred the Mark to Dean, who apparently had the ‘heart of a killer’, or something.

“The blade essentially drove Dean crazy. I tried to get him under control, but he handles power differently than I do. With the demon blood, I strove to be treated like an equal. Under the mark and the blade, Dean essentially declared us a dictatorship. He went behind my back to use the blade, went insane with Bloodlust.

“After he killed Abaddon, we tried helping Castiel, who was leading an army of angels. Metatron had been using various angels as double-agents to make Castiel’s followers think he was sending them out as suicide bombers, and they deserted him. We had enough of Metatron’s crap, so the three of us teamed up, strangely enough, with Gadreel, who had revealed Metatron was sourcing his power from the tablets of God. Dean went out to kill him. He ended up being murdered before we defeated Metatron.

“I was ready to bring Dean back, even though he didn’t want to endure the insanity of the mark. No matter what the cost to me. I had driven him to his death, by making him feel guilty, so I had to pay and fix my mistake. But, the thing is, Crowley hid the truth about the mark of Cain. It doesn’t just let the bearer go.

“I came in to where I had laid Dean’s body down, to find it missing. He had literally become a Demon. His own body as a vessel. I caught up to him, and held him down, and cured him of his demonic nature. Despite his insisting, and the various times he had murdered under the Mark’s influence, I would not stand by and damn Dean’s soul to an eternity as a demon. With nowhere left to turn, against better judgment, I began working with a witch, Rowena.

“Of course, I wasn’t stupid enough to trust Rowena. I had her bound so she wouldn’t use magic, and tried to observe her, so she wouldn’t read more off the Book of the Damned, and the Codex to decrypt it, than was necessary. When my friend, Charlie, died, following Rowena’s plan to help cure Dean, I wanted to stop caring. I tried giving up. I tried holding a gun to Rowena’s head. Nothing. So, we made a new deal. The Codex, and her freedom, for the spell.

“Dean summoned Death, for one last favor, to kill him and the mark completely. No resurrecting as a demon. Unfortunately, Death explained the whole thing about the Darkness, and how it couldn’t be set free on the universe. He offered two alternatives: pass the Mark of Cain onto another, or relocate Dean to a completely abandoned world, to suffer throughout eternity, with no living thing for him to harm. Dean chose the second.

“The Horseman’s only caveat was that the story of the Mark of Cain had to end the way it started.” Sam said slowly. “Dean had to kill me. Death knew that, as long as I was alive, I would try and find a way to save my brother. So, we fought for a good, five seconds, before I decided to just let him do it. I thought it was the right thing, after all. My death would ensure Dean didn’t have to suffer any more bloodthirsty desire. I got him into this mess, so I could get him out of it.

“But, Dean made a different call. He killed Death.” Tracy cleared her throat.

“I’m sorry; did you just say he killed _Death_?” Sam frowned for a minute, trying to think of the answer.

“Well, he took Death’s scythe. Stabbed him with it. And the Horsemen disintegrated into dust. I don’t think it could be that easy. I feel Death just had enough of our shit and fled somewhere to hide. Either way, it eliminated the mark, and there had been no immediate visible consequences, so I thought everything had gone to plan.

“Unfortunately, removing the Mark did just as Death said it would: Release the Primordial entity known as The Darkness. Rowena fled with the Book of the Damned and the Codex, and we haven’t seen her since. And the Darkness…” Sam paused. “The Darkness is biding it’s time, waiting for the opportunity to strike. We don’t know any of it’s abilities, nor the scope of how far they go. For all we know, it could blow out the Universe in a second, like a candle. And it probably can.” There was an awkward silence.

“Two things.” Krissy finally said. Sam looked to her, raising an eyebrow in question. The girl held up a pointer finger: “One, You said Cass took away your nightmares of the Cage, but that doesn’t explain why they came back. And Two,” She raised her middle finger. “You haven’t explained where Dean is, and why you’re not together.” The older hunter gave a sad smile.

“Bear with me.” He asked. “I’m getting to that.” Sam leaned back in his chair for a second, before moving forward. “I figure that the Darkness getting loose is my fault. After all, I had tried desperately to free Dean from the Mark of Cain, even when he told me not to.” He huffed slightly. “Dean told me it was my fault as well. If I hadn’t been stupid enough to trust Rowena, if maybe I’d listened to Dean, if I hadn’t been so willing to free him from the Mark, perhaps Charlie would still be alive, and the Darkness wouldn’t be free. His exact words were, ‘Great, just another one of your apocalyptic screw-ups _I_ have to fix.’ ” They drew a collective gasp. “And I didn’t want that. So, I became a witch.”

“So, what, you’re working with demons again?” Tracy asked. Sam shook his head.

“That’s not the only way.” He said. Tracy gave a frown. “Rowena explained to us that witches come in three distinct varieties: The Borrowers, the ones we usually hunt, gain their magic in service to demons. Their souls are committed to Hell the minute they die, similar to those who work demon deals. Rowena was a natural. That’s the rarest form, those who have natural affinity for magic. They possess great power. Then there’s the third kind, the ones who help hunters the most often. The Students. They usually learn from spell books, and they are mainly self-taught, or tutored by another witch.”

“Wouldn’t all hunters be Students, then? We use spells, too.” Krissy argued. The hunter paused for a minute, trying to craft his answer.

“Rowena said the distinguishing difference between a person who uses spells and a witch is that witches cast spells so often that the lingering magic left by spells eventually build up to a point so great that the person in question can often use forms of magic with just incantations, or even gestures. No complicated rituals and ingredients required for the simpler things.”

“Which are you, then?” Josephine inquired. Sam grimaced.

“Not sure, exactly.” He stated. “I figured I would be a Student, but Rowena never made it exactly clear how to tell apart a Natural and a Student. After all, I was a psychic, and my family heritage, what with the Campbell hunters on one side and the Winchester Men of Letters on the other, with a lineage back to Cain and Abel that makes us the bloodline for both Michael and Lucifer’s ideal vessels, is at best muddled with a variety of supernatural lineages.” He gave a shrug. “Anyways, given X-many years after Azazel’s death, I wasn’t sure if his demonic blood was still present in me.”

“You wouldn’t have lost it during the purification of the Trials?” Aidan asked. “How could you have cured a demon if you still had demon blood?”

“It wouldn’t make much difference.” Sam said. “Having a little bit of demon blood didn’t stop me from being human: Even when I knew I still had it, Holy water didn’t affect me, and Devil’s traps wouldn’t hold me.” Aidan gave a brief ‘Oh.’, and Sam pressed on. “So, behind Dean’s back, I began building up my psychic abilities again.” Tracy felt a jolt of anger.

“You’re drinking demon blood again?” She growled. Sam shook his head.

“I told you, Ruby had admitted I never needed more demon blood than what Azazel gave me.” He explained. “Why would abilities that have never faded after over 23 years and who knows how many pints of blood lost just stop after killing the demon who gave me them?” Krissy frowned.

“But, you said after his death, your powers stopped.” Sam gave a shrug.

“I had visions, and most, if not all of them, revolved around the fates of the Special Children and Azazel.” He explained. “When Azazel and the special Children were no more, why would I continue to have them? If I had tried expanding them beyond the one time I tried telekinesis, I’m sure they wouldn’t have disappeared. If I could summon demons, like Ava, or have inhuman strength, like Jake, or could persuade people like Andy, I probably would’ve seen it wasn’t gone.”

“Why would you need more demon blood to take down higher-tier demons, if it wasn’t the demon blood?” Josephine asked.

“Placebo effect. Under Ruby, I believed that my powers were dependent on the amount of blood I consumed. The truth was, if I had practiced without the use of demon blood, I would have eventually been able to do the same things.” There was a pause. “After some practice, I was able to gain back abilities: Exorcising demons without the use of a ritual, Telekinetically being able to move them around, Crushing them in their vessels, gaining immunity to a good portion of their powers, along with other kinds of magic.” Sam explained. “There are even non-demon-related psychic abilities. I can project my consciousness anywhere, particularly if there’s someone there I’ve met personally. I have a weak level of telekinesis, but I prefer to keep it limited to just inanimate objects and myself. I can project visions and illusions onto others, to some extent. There’s Psychometry, reading the history of a person or object through touch. I can hear ghosts and spirits, to a degree. There’s empathy: it allows me to feel, and even control other people’s emotions. And I’m kind of pushing it a little to do basic mind-reading. Not mind control, cause, like telekinesis, that’s violation of someone’s free will, but mind-reading, so I can get access to some useful information.”

Aidan gave a low whistle.

“Nice.” He said appreciatively. “That must come in real handy.” Sam nodded, smiling softly.

“It does.” The smile faded. “But, considering the result is a restoring of my memories from the Cage, I don’t think it’s completely worth it.” Tracy thought of the agonizing memories she had experienced last night. If that was what Sam felt every time he went to sleep, than she’d have to agree with him. It was not worth it at all.

“Why does it project itself to everyone around you?” She asked. Sam gave a shrug.

“My psychic powers become involuntary when I sleep.” He explained. “The memory projection is no more intended than the levitation.” A smile flickered on his face. “Now you know why I have restraints on my bed. It isn’t a kinky thing.” None of them laughed. He pushed on. “When I’m surrounded by people and can’t find a place to sleep that’s at least 130 yards away from the nearest sleeping person, I make sure to stay up for at least 3 days.” He eyed them sadly. “But since it was you four, I tried pushing it for at least 5.”

“How could Dean leave you like this?” Krissy demanded suddenly, getting to her feet. Tracy could hear the hurt layered in her tone. “The Dean I know would never abandon someone, and definitely his brother.” Sam smiled sadly.

“Dean’s my brother, and I love him. But he’s a bigot.” He explained. “Basically towards anything that isn’t 100%, grade-A, all-around _normal_ human, or otherwise a creature that doesn’t place human life far above their own, and doesn’t loathe themselves every minute of every day for what they are.” Aidan frowned.

“But Dean stopped us from killing a vamp that was just turned.” He argued. “Plus, you mentioned the other vamp, Lenore, and your friend Cass, and the vamp Benny Dean protected from you. And the demons you work with. Crowley, Meg, Ruby.” Sam gave look of anger.

“Dean was the same one who beat me into submission when he found out I was using my abilities. And, like I said, value of human life. The woman you guys almost killed had just been turned, so his reasoning was that she was still human enough to be spared. Plus, being a vampire for a hot second makes him more sensitive to their plight. Lenore and her nest made it clear that they hated themselves for what they were, every second of every day, and they were more willing to suffer than to make humans suffer. Cass..” Sam paused. “Cass risked everything to try to empathize with Dean, and even was cast out of Heaven. He made it clear that humans were more important than anything else in creation. We worked with Crowley, Meg, and Ruby only out of the mentality of _‘The Less-Threatening Enemy of my Enemy is less of my enemy than the other.’_ Even if Meg ended up actually wanting to help us apart from her self interest, Dean didn’t trust her, nor did he trust the other two. And even if I was wrong about Benny killing people, I was right about Dean being blind in his trust of his friend.”

“Meaning?” Krissy inquired. The hunter sighed wearily, rubbing his eyes.

“When Dean met Benny in Purgatory, they were in a crisis situation, and Benny was desperate to get out. He told him how he used blood transfusions to feed instead of actual human blood. That way, he put no human lives at risk, but it wasn’t as unpleasant as feeding off animals, like Lenore did. But, thing was, Dean couldn’t know for sure in Purgatory. It’s a living, breathing place, sure, and there’s pain, but there’s no need. No hunger, no sleep. When I met Benny and found out he was a vampire, I set our friend, Martin on his tail. Not the smartest idea, since Martin was fresh from the mental hospital, but I figured having him track and report would be an easy way to return to hunting. Anyways, we went to check on Benny, and Dean approached him alone to find out a vamp had been setting him up. We didn’t believe him, and we went to pursue Benny. Dean sent out the distress signal he had under the number of the woman I had lived with for a year, I panicked and ditched Martin to check on her, and Martin kind of decided he’d had enough with Dean’s shit about protecting a vampire. He held Benny’s great-granddaughter or something captive, and Benny killed him before fleeing. That’s around 3 people dead already because Dean refused to let his friend go.”

“But Benny wasn’t killing anyone, except for Martin, at least-” Krissy argued.

“Doesn’t matter. Dean basically has a rule that anything inhuman that attracts danger, regardless of whether it’s their fault or not, has to go.” Sam said. “And any monster that has killed before is destroyed before they kill again. He talked a werewolf girl, Madison, into embracing death, because we couldn’t cure her. I was the one who had to shoot her, because she trusted me and had a connection with me. When my Kitsune friend, Amy, killed four people to save her son, it didn’t matter that to Dean that she had saved my life before, and chose not to kill me when I caught up to her, when she could have, effortlessly. He killed her behind my back, and I had to find out from someone else. The fact that he killed her is bad enough, but he also spared her son, which is terrible, if not worse.”

“How?” Tracy inquired.

“From what Dean told me, he basically taunted the kid to come kill him when he was older. He spared him because he hadn’t killed anyone, but Jacob was a kid. He couldn’t hunt. He was forcefully codependent on his mom to feed him pituitary glands from her job as a mortician,” Sam laughed as he saw their faces wrinkle. “Hey, everyone has a right to live, right? Anyways, Dean left him alive, knowing full-well Jacob would eventually starve to death, because he couldn’t hunt, and was too young to be able to, or else attract the attention of another hunter once he killed, because he was too sloppy to hide his trail. It wasn’t so much as Dean being merciful as Dean not wanting to taint his own conscience by killing a kid.

“Benny was a walking cautionary hazard. Even if Dean couldn’t admit it, he could at least have let me put him down. Asshole-y? Sure. But Dean’s whole mentality isn’t stopping killers so much as it is preventing future murders. When the vamp rescued me from Purgatory, he told me he was staying, because he couldn’t handle the hunger he bore on the surface. Dean knew he was slipping, and ignored it because God forbid anyone hurt his friend. The minute Benny was gone, Dean reverted back to his old prejudice.”

“So….why did he turn on you?” Josephine asked. Sam gave a pitiless smile.

“Like I said: if you embrace the part of you that isn’t human, you can kiss Dean’s respect good-bye.” He stated. “The minute he and Cass found out I was using magic and stretching my psychic powers, they locked me in the storage room of our bunker. I broke out, ran, and have been hiding from them going on about….” He bit his lip for a minute, trying to think. “….Five months, now.” There was an awkward silence, as Sam got to his feet. “God, it’s almost 9. I’m running to the diner. Any of you care to join me?”

* * *

 

“Do you think we should tell Dean?” Krissy asked, curling closer to Aidan on her bed. Tracy, who was lying on her stomach on her own bed, lifted her gaze from Sam’s Men of Letters journal to look at the pair of them.

“Not sure.” She admitted. “Don’t think it would be too kind to do that, after all Sam’s done for us, but Dean might be able to help him.” Aidan frowned.

“Help him how?” He inquired. Tracy bit her lip. The others had not been in Sam’s bathroom and seen the evidence of mountainous nose bleeds. It would be a risk of Sam’s privacy to tell them.

And yet, to not tell them might bring him closer to his death, which, given what she knew, Tracy was not willing to accept.

“I think he’s dying.” The older hunter sighed, closing the journal. As soon as the words left her mouth, she regretted saying them. Krissy went white as a sheet, and Aidan looked sick as well.

“I’m _definitely_ calling Dean.” The girl said, pulling out her phone and dialing up a number. Placing the phone on speaker, she held it up for the three of them to hear the ringing.

“Krissy?” The older Winchester’s voice echoed out of the phone. “What’s up, kiddo? Are you in trouble?” Tracy saw the girl shake her head, before realizing Dean couldn’t see her.

“No, Dean, we’re fine. We needed to let you know about Sammy.” The line was quiet for a second.

“What about him? And who’s ‘we’ ?” He asked, somewhat rushed.

“Tracy, Aidan, Josephine, and me. We were on a hunt and Sam saved us. We’re at the same hotel as him, but he’s out right now on a food-run with Jo.”

“Where are you guys?” They paused, looking to each other. Was it safe to tell Dean? After all, he’d probably try dragging Sam back to God knows where against his will, and from what they sampled of Sam’s power, that might not end too well for the older Winchester. “Come on, tell me.”

“Tell us why you’re trying to hunt down Sam.” Tracy said, getting closer so she could speak into the phone. The older Winchester swore.

“Why’s it any of your business, Bell? And what do you care? You hate him!” Tracy ground her teeth.

“Changed my mind after he actually took time aside to explain why he had started the Apocalypse and how it ended. And, side note, why the fuck did you let me rip him a new one? You didn’t even tell me what your brother had done; you just let me kick him into the dirt. What kind of person does that to someone they love?” They heard a growl on the other end of the line.

“Cause, like it or not, the idiot started the Apocalypse. It’s a fact of life. I helped clean up his mess. I’m always cleaning up his messes, just like I’m trying to do now, except you won’t fucking tell me where he is!” Tracy felt hot rage shoot through her.

“Actually, he cleaned up his mess.” She spat. “In fact, it sounds like he’s always cleaning up his messes, and yours and your angel friend Cass’, while all you do is bitch and moan and look down on everyone in self-righteous judgment.”

“Look here, sister.” They heard a snarl. “Sammy may act like the hero, but he just wants to be a martyr. Tell me where he is, or you better believe I’ll have heaven in all their holy power on your snarky little ass.”

“That’s enough, I think.” The phone zoomed out of Krissy’s hand and over Tracy’s shoulder to the door, into the outstretched arm of Sam Winchester. Seeing their terrified looks, he gave a smirk, lifting the phone to his mouth. “Hey, Dean. How are things in Heaven?”

“Sammy? Oh, thank God.” Dean’s voice sounded like it was about to cry in relief. “Listen, Sammy, you gotta tell me where you are.”

“Right, that makes perfect sense,” The younger brother scoffed. “You’re going to try and abduct me so I’ll give up magic, when all I’m doing is fixing what I started.”

“You’re not seeing clearly, Sam.” Dean insisted. “This is just like with Ruby.” The room was quiet, and they saw Sam’s face tighten with rage.

“Go fuck yourself.” He said coldly. “You may think you’re always right, but the only thing that’s constant is you being been a self-righteous, hypocritical asshole. You are over-protective, arrogant, and think that everything has to be done your way. Every time I do something you don’t like, you throw Ruby back in my face, as if I don’t think about that every single day. You always put me down, make me think I’m not capable enough, that you have to shelter me and shoulder the burden. Hate to tell you this, but I’m old enough to make my own decisions, with or without your approval. I’m done with this.”

“Sammy-”

“Goodbye, Dean.” The phone clamped shut, before shattering into a thousand pieces. Removing the SD card, he walked over and handed it to Krissy, before giving her a Styrofoam container. They expected to see anger in his eyes, but they only saw tired carelessness. “Eat up. You should head out tomorrow and get back on the road.”

They said nothing as he distributed the meals, before walking out the still-open door. Jo entered, consumed in eating her fries. Seeing the shocked faces of her companions, she frowned.

“What’d I miss?”


	2. Ascension

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This is the end to Tracy's part in the "Final Arc". I wrote this mainly Sam could be properly redeemed in her eyes, and to make Krissy realize how stupid she was for idolizing Dean when he had been ready to just let another hunter find her Dad, while Sam jumped in right away to help, all while dealing with the loss of Bobby and his hallucinations.
> 
> This is, as I mentioned, not the most positive fic for Cass and Dean, so it may seem like Bashing, but it is all my logical perception of the issues in SPN. I feel, personally, Sam gets the most hate out of all the three main SPN characters, when he deserves it the least.

 Lying in bed, Tracy tried to tune out Jo’s soft breathing, or the giggles she heard through the wall in the room over, where Krissy and Aidan were. Looking up at the pale ceiling, all she could hear about was the screams of agony she had heard from Sam Winchester the night before, the chuckles of Lucifer and the roars of Michael. All she could see was the flames surrounding everything, with two figures wearing the forms of Sam’s loved ones taunting and torturing him. She felt the hands, either flaming hot or blistering cold, ripping into her, or penetrating her in the most unwholesome way.

And right now, Sam Winchester was awake in the next room, after staying up 5 days and sleeping only for 4 hours, just so she and everyone else wouldn’t experience it again.

Who was that selfless? That caring?

She knew her thoughts about the hunter were super inappropriate, given that she barely knew him and he was obviously laden with pain, but she couldn’t help feel a strong attraction to him. He had suffered through an eternity of pain, yet kept on pushing. Not for power. Not for glory. Not for worship.

Because he felt it was his duty. His fault.

His personality wasn’t harsh and evil, like she’d pictured. It was calm, collective, caring. Somewhat psychotic, sure, but anywhere from five thousand years onward of torture at two of the most powerful beings in existence would do that to you.

His body…

Well.

That was a given.The majority of the women and even some men (though few and far between, as Hunters usually tended to be closed-minded people) in the Hunter Community often said Dean was the handsome one.

Obviously, they must have had their blinders up.

Everything she’d heard about the Winchester boys seemed to favor Dean, in fact. Dean was noble enough to put up with his brat-nosed brother. Dean was the good son, to not question John’s orders. Dean was the better hunter. Dean was the one you’d want in a fight.

Given what she’d heard about John Winchester, she had no doubts that Dean was a good son.

But that’s not so noble, when you’re obeying a horrible father.

Sam Winchester was smart enough to not buy into all the crap he was sold. He questioned orders. He ignored bigotry. He put himself in harm’s way to save others.

He’d torture himself, to save others.

Sighing, Tracy climbed out of bed and put her flip-flops on. Inching quietly out of the door, she closed it behind her before making her way over to Sam’s room, where the lights were still shining through the closed blinds.She bit her lip, realizing Sam had picked a room at the end of the row. So less people would experience his nightmares. Knocking softly, she entered, to see Sam, naked except for a pair of sweatpants, bending over backward, stretched out on a yoga mat so his body was in the shape of a bridge

“Hey, Trace.” He said, face flushed, dimples flashing. She almost wanted to chuckle.

“Where’d you learn yoga?” The hunter asked, as Sam to a standing position to walk over to her.

“Stanford, Freshmen year. I was trying new things.” He gave a cheeky grin. “The very nice yoga instructor gave me private lessons.” She snorted, but also felt herself flush at the image of an 18 year-old Sam Winchester having a hot, bendy night with a random stranger. Thank God she wasn’t like Aidan or Krissy. Would have shown right away.“I bet she _or_ he was very lucky.” She said. Sam smiled softly.

“They seemed to think so.” Tilting her head, she opened her mouth to inquire about it, but Sam answered. “Their name was Dylan. They didn’t feel gender labels fit them, so they considered themselves Non-binary.” She nodded, trying to not look so confused. Growing up in rural Michigan, she would say she knew enough about LGBT to know what the L and the G and the B and the T stood for. Everything else made as little sense to her as a foreign language.

“I get it, it’s confusing at first.” Sam said with a chuckle. “But, as you know from my story, species isn’t even usually a factor when I love or feel attraction for someone. Gender isn’t that big of a jump. It was strange, at first, considering I grew up on the run with two hyper masculine guys in places with no culture. But I grew to accept it. After all, I knew the biggest freak I’d ever meet was me.” The words sounded bitter, twisted, layered in self-loathing.

“It’s fine. No judgment here.” She said. Sam gave a soft smile.

“That’s definitely a first.” He said. “I never had time to explain this stuff to Dean, not that he’d care that much. As long as I don’t let it interfere with my hunting.” He snorted.

“You aren’t mad that we called him, are you?” Tracy asked. It was probably stupid to bring it up, but she knew instinctively Sam was tired of hiding things below the surface. The hunter gave a shrug.

“My empathy lets me understand intentions.” He answered. “I felt your worry, and how it was for me. I felt your anger and your hesitance, and knew it was towards involving Dean. You did what you thought was best, for selfless reasons. No matter what happens, no matter how much you screw up, you can know that if you thought you were doing it to help others, then you haven’t lost your way.” There was a pause, as they both sat on the bed. “I just am confused to why you would want to try to save me.” Tracy sighed.

“Well, someone has to do it.” She muttered. Sam huffed.

“I don’t need to be saved.” He said, clearly irritated. “I’m not a lost puppy that needs to be sheltered.” Tracy disagreed mentally, because anyone who saw the way Sam acted would agree, 100%, that he was a lost little puppy.

“No, you’re a guy who tortures himself because you think you deserve it.” He opened his mouth to argue, but she shot him a glance. “Tell me I’m wrong.” Sam looked back to his feet.

“You know,” The hunter said, after a pause. “Your emotions have been the weirdest thing to feel for the past few days.” He gave her a humored look. “Never thought I’d see someone move through from hate, to pity, to guilt, to attraction so quickly, especially when in consideration to me.”

Tracy’s face felt ready to burn off.

“You read my emotions?!” She didn’t know how to feel. Angry? Humiliated? Embarrassed? Probably a combination of the three. Sam shrugged, looking somewhat ashamed.

“Empathy’s not a switch, like my other powers.” He explained apologetically. “You call it reading, when it isn’t. The world isn’t just a library where I walk in and pick up the closest book. It’s more like a shop full of television sets, and all the speakers are blaring at their full volume.” He cleared his throat. “Yours was just blaring the loudest. And the.... _images_ were the hardest to ignore.” Her heart sank.

“Images?” Sam flushed, looking as embarrassed as she felt.

“I get…uh… _flashes_.” He said quietly. “You lopping my head off was easy to look at, and the whole associating-me-with-a-puppy-dog thing was funny. Just kind of felt perverted looking at the last few ….” Tracy gave a groan, covering her face.

“Can you kill me now?” She begged. “That would be less mortifying then having to look at you when you’ve seen my inappropriate feelings.” Sam gave another huff.

“It’s okay, you know.” The hunter assured her. “Don’t let anyone tell you what you feel is inappropriate.” Tracy looked up, feeling hopeful. “I just...really can’t accept your offer, given all the crap you’d have to suffer.”

“What, your nightmares?” She demanded angrily. “Sam, I felt the brunt force of them, I was close enough to.” He looked at her.

“Even you and Krissy were feeling a trickle-down effect. Believe me. Any closer and you’d be locked within your mind. It’s happened already.” Tracy froze. Sam sighed, seeing her shocked expression. He turned his back towards her. She’d remembered seeing flashes of black running down his back when they had been leaving Freya’s lair. Now that she saw what they were, she almost cried.

Names. Tattooed across his back, small enough to make room for others but large enough to be legible. There were about 6 columns, 5 of them filled already with over 20 names each. The sixth, which reached his right shoulder (the first one had started on the left shoulder). Even though there were at least 100 names, Tracy’s eyes were able to catch key names from Sam’s stories. The first name of the first column: _Mary Winchester_. Right below it: _Jessica Lee Moore_. Then there was _Meg Masters_. _John Winchester_. The names of all the special children Sam had mentioned were knit close together, even _Ava Wilson_ and _Jake Talley_. Below them was _Ash_. She soon saw the names _Jo Harvelle_ and _Ellen Harvelle_ in quick succession. In the second to last column, she saw Irv Franklin and Pete Smith’s names, from when Abaddon captured them to lure the Winchesters. Below that: _The Bell Family_. She bit her lip, eyes watering.

There were more. _Kevin Tran_ , the prophet killed when Gadreel hijacked Sam’s body. She saw the name _Charlie Bradbury/Celeste Middleton_ , and vaguely remembered Sam bringing up how his working to undo the mark ended up getting his friend Charlie killed. Looking at the unfinished sixth column, she focused on the last few names: _Aaron Reed_ , _Cindy Bhattacharya_ , _Rosie Hernandez_.

“They were just hook-ups. Happened all within the eight weeks after I left Dean.” He bit his lip, looking down at his feet. “First one was an art major at NYU, second one was a Lawyer fresh from UChicago, third was an activist in D.C. Knew I shouldn’t have fallen asleep, on any of the times. But it happened. I woke up, each was unresponsive. Catatonic.” Sam paused. “Called 911 each time, and didn’t sleep for a week or so after.” He turned back to her, shrugging it off.

“I can adjust, Sam. I won't leave you alone.” Tracy said. Sam smiled, shaking his head.

“You’re nice, Trace, and I get you care, but-” He looked at his feet. “I can’t think of anyone like that. Not with all that’s happened. I’m tainted. Unworthy.”

Tracy resisted the urge to kick him in the balls.

“You say that like I care.” She said, closing the gap between them. Instinctively, she began to lean into his neck for a kiss. It had been ages since she had kissed a guy. Probably since she started hunting. Guess she was like Sam in that manner, where she couldn't just have a random one-nighter. Just as an itch to scratch.

“Tracy..” Sam protested, pushing her away. She was back beside him, resuming her attempts to win him over. Giving a sigh, Sam leaned back on the bed, with her following after.

To her shock, Sam began to sing.

“ _Audi vocem meam…_ ” He began. “ _In zgre feror ad somnum…_ ” She had to admit, it was pretty damn good. Then she paused, realizing it was in Latin.

“ _Ut somnia circumdabit te, Conferant tibi pacem…._ ” Tracy’s eyes began to flicker, the room around her flowing at the pace of syrup. She reached out for Sam, attempting to stop him.

“ _Audite vocem meam, quae…_ ” Sam continued. “ _Est super mel dulcis…Ut ego sopitum tibi mollia in tenebras……….Placet, cessabit._ ”

* * *

Cracking an eye open, Tracy saw the golden light filling the room. Grinning to herself, she considered her mission of getting close with Sam Winchester a success. After all, she was in his bed, surrounded by the scent of him (cheap deodorant and mint-scented shampoo, covering the rich smell of exotic herbs for spell-casting) However, the lack of warmth beside her was suspicious. Lifting her head, she frowned to see that the bed was empty besides her. Sam’s scent was largely in part due to a flannel button-up she was nuzzling.

Sitting up, Tracy felt her heart drop.

All of Sam’s bags were missing.

 _He’s gone._ She thought. _He’s miles away from here, and won’t be back. I was stupid enough to throw myself at a traumatized guy, and this is what I get._

“Up so soon?” She practically jumped, to see a smirking Sam Winchester leaning in the doorway. He was laden with coffee cartons and bags of what she assumed was breakfast.

Tracy felt relief flood her entire system, and Sam barely had time to put the food down on the desk before she embraced him. The younger hunter felt his muscles tense at the affection, before he relaxed.

“What was that for?” He asked, amused. Tracy shrugged her shoulders.

“Thought you were gone.” She answered. Sam huffed, giving his wide grin before handing her a coffee. A smile spread on her face. “Large Latte. You remembered.”

“I had the receipt from before.” Sam retorted. “Thought you might need it.” He winced slightly. “What with the sleep spell.”

“The…” Tracy stopped, scowling at him. “The lullaby.” Sam shrugged. “Nice trick, but you could’ve said no.” He chuckled weakly.

“I thought I did.” The man retaliated. Sighing, Tracy grabbed the coffee and made her way back to the bed. “Anyways, I’m heading out soon. Just thought I’d bring you breakfast and see if you’d help me out.” She paused for a minute, taking a sip.

“What’d you have in mind?”

* * *

“God, these are heavy.” Aidan groaned, lugging the two coolers behind him.  In front of him and Tracy, Sam turned to give a smile.

“Well, I’m sure you can suffer a little longer.” He said, giving a blanket to an elderly woman, while Tracy passed her a bagel and banana.

“This is what you wanted us to help you with?” Krissy asked, handing a weary-looking redhead man a paper bag containing an apple and a peanut-butter and jelly sandwich. Sam gave an affirmative nod.

“God knows I wouldn’t involve you in a hunt. I think you should quit now, while you can.” 

“ _You_ don’t quit.” Jo pointed out. Sam shrugged.

“There’s no escape for me. My fate was sealed the minute my Mom made her deal with Yellow Eyes. I wasn’t really meant to survive the Apocalypse, and the world keeps breaking because I did.” Looking up to the other side of the homeless encampment, Sam immediately stiffened.

“You need to leave.” He said.

“Trouble?” Tracy asked with a frown, handing a skinny blond woman a bagel and a banana. Following Sam’s gaze, she saw a Hispanic-looking woman in scrubs, and an elderly East Asian man and young red-haired woman in nearly identical light gray suits. They had all surrounded a pot-bellied, middle-aged white homeless man. Looking around to his face, she saw a rather eerie grin, like a cat looking at a mouse.

“Nope.” Putting the pile of blankets in Jo’s arm, Sam slung his backpack off his shoulders, removing something silver and sliding it up his arm, before zipping it back up and returning it to his back. Tracy exchanged glances with the other three, before they dropped all the materials Sam had given them in a pile, telling the homeless people to take as much as they want, but be sure to share.

Running to catch up with Sam, they neared him just in time to end up face-to-face with the three official-looking people, who were standing in front of the homeless man. The Hispanic doctor, who was in the middle, stepped forward.

“Sam Winchester. We are glad to see you.” She said, nodding curtly. “You may not remember me from before, but I’m-”

“Flagstaff.” Sam cut her off. Turning to the Asian Man, he nodded. “Netzach.” Looking at the redhead last of all, he continued. “Selaphiel.” Looking back to Flagstaff, he smiled humorlessly. “I think we’re good on the name basis, here. I’ll just be taking that murderous, degenerate, lying hobo behind you.” The redhead, Selaphiel, snorted.

“Metatron has committed numerous crimes against heaven.” She sneered at Sam. “He must be punished.” Sam gave a nod.

“Agreed. And I can carry out punishment much more efficiently than you can.” Tracy saw his dark, almost evil smile, and couldn’t blame the hobo (Metatron) from whimpering. Flagstaff gave a sigh.

“We must detain him, Sam. Along with you.” She informed him, eyes weary. “Castiel has asked us to stop you at all costs.” Sam huffed.

“Did he now?” He asked, sounding rather bored. “So surprising. You all deserted Cass when you thought he was encouraging suicide missions, and now that you’re actually back on his side, he’s actually giving you suicide missions. And you stay.” The one angel, Netzach, frowned.

“Who are you, Abomination, to think you stand a chance?” He growled. Sam said nothing, raising a hand to his temple and closing his eyes in concentration.

Hearing snarls and feral barks on either side of the group, Tracy looked around.

But there was nothing, except for the sounds, of course. The angels looked slightly more terrified.

“He has summoned Hellhounds.” Flagstaff warned, backing towards Metatron and removing her sword. Sam laughed, and with a shake of his arm, an almost identical silver blade dropped from inside his jacket.

 

“Look.” He said, stepping forward. “I don’t want trouble. Unlike Dean or even Cass, I have a spotless record for angel-killing. I like to keep that record untarnished.”

“You think you stand a chance against us, Infernal One?” Selaphiel challenged, withdrawing her sword. Sam made a thoughtful expression.

“Hmm. Let’s see who I’ve fought against and survived: Couple of major demons, Azazel, Lilith, Alastair, Abaddon. Three horsemen, War, Famine, and Pestilence. The Archangels, and I even permanently stowed away the ones who you consider the most powerful. And almost every type of evil that ever existed.” He smiled darkly. “ So, to say the least, I’m not intimidated by three low-tier incompetent servants of a God who no one is exactly sure exists anymore.”

There was a cry of outrage, and a blur. In the next second, the angel Selaphiel was floating in midair, twitching, her body positioned in a manner that reminded Tracy of the images she’d seen of Jesus’ crucifixion. Choking, her sword clattered to the ground, and she whimpered for help.

“You blaspheme with your satanic powers, Winchester.” Netzach snarled. “If you kill an angel, you shall have all of heaven’s retribution on your tail.” Sam frowned.

“So, I kill an angel for almost attacking me, and heaven turns against me, but Cass slaughters a thousand angels and you still forgive him? And you still allow Dean to be near you, when he’s killed a good portion of your kind as well? Tell me how that works.”

“Just put her down, Sam.” Flagstaff implored, dropping her blade and kicking it towards Sam (or was it away from Metatron?). “Call off the hounds and let us discuss this rationally.” Tracy saw Sam’s gaze soften at the word ‘rationally’, and the barking of the hounds ceases, with Selaphiel falling back to the ground and scuttling towards her angelic companions. Sighing, Sam dropped his angel blade in the middle.

“Who are the children?” Netzach inquired, eyeing the hunters on either side of Sam. Tracy saw the man roll his eyes.

“Stubborn little kids who won’t listen.” He muttered under his breath.

“Hey!” Krissy punched him in the shoulder. “We’re not stupid enough to let you get yourself killed. Sorry it bothers you.”

“Do they know what you have done?” Selaphiel asked, growling, massaging her throat. Sam frowned.

“They know about the Apocalypse, stopping the Apocalypse, stopping Eve, stopping the Leviathan, stopping the Trials…is that what you mean?” The redhead angel shook her head.

“I am asking if they know how depraved you have become, Sam Winchester.” She sneered. “Using powers given by a demon, reading into witchcraft.” Sam nodded.

“Yes. You angels might not be in touch with humans, but usually, someone might blink if a person lifts a bitch of a redhead in the air with their mind.” The angel’s gaze hardened.

 “Be careful, Winchester. They are not untouchable, like you.” She warned. The hunter said nothing.

“Sam, your brother and Castiel alike are both concerned about you.” Flagstaff interjected. “You may not understand why they would go so far to stop you, but you must understand that you are tearing apart your body from the inside.” Sam said nothing again, avoiding the angel’s gaze. “Why are you so insistent on killing yourself?” Sam gave a huff.

“Well, since no one else is doing what it takes to stop the Darkness, I guess it falls on me.” He said with a shrug. “Dean and Cass won’t let me do it if it means my destruction. They don’t see the bigger picture.”

“You’re a human, and a mortal.” Flagstaff said, not as an insult, but as a reminder. “The burden to stop an unspeakable ancient evil does not fall to you. It shouldn’t.” The hunter raised an eyebrow.

“Oh, really? Cause, what, you guys are always competent enough or willing to?” He inquired. “Last time I checked, the only angels who bothered stopping the Apocalypse were Cass and Anna. None of you moved a finger when Eve resurfaced, or when it became clear Cass was working with Crowley. You were retreating back to the pearly gates when the Leviathans were loose, and it fell to humans,  _again_ , to clean the mess up. Never once, except for with Naomi, did we receive any angelic assistance in the Trials to close hell. Abaddon grew to unprecedented power while you were busy pettily arguing amongst yourselves. You all begged Castiel to kill Dean, and when he wouldn’t, you abandoned him for the pathetic moron who locked you all out of heaven in the first place. And we got no help, whatsoever, from any angel, besides Cass, to deal with the Mark of Cain.” Flagstaff was stone-faced, Netzach and Selaphiel looking livid on either side of her. “So, who exactly will pick it up for me?”

“You once prayed to angels frequently, Sam Winchester.” The Hispanic angel whispered, her tone sorrowful. “And yet now, you have no faith in us.” Sam shrugged his shoulders.

“Guess I realized most of you aren’t worth having faith in.” He said coolly. Without warning, he began to walk towards the angels, without a sword. While Netzach and Selaphiel moved into a defensive position, Flagstaff stayed absolutely still. Sam simply reached over her and tapped a palm against the whimpering Metatron’s forehead. The latter shuddered in fear, begging for mercy. After a minute, with all eyes on them, Sam relinquished his grip on the former Scribe, falling to his knees with a gasp.

“Sam!” Tracy shouted in shock, running to his aid with the others. Before they could reach him, he extended a hand, and they lurched to a stop.

As he got to his feet, Sam swayed slightly, leaning against Flagstaff for support.

“If I give you a spell to restore the wings of every angel…..” He said slowly, holding the blood dribbling down his face. “Will you leave me alone with him?” The angel tilted her head in what appeared to be concern, unsure of whether the risk of being able to restore powers to the Heavenly host was worth the risk of potentially letting Sam Winchester harm himself.

Tracy could hug her.

“You need to take them with you.” Sam added, his gaze shifting back to the four hunters.

Tracy could punch him.

“You can’t do that!” Krissy shouted, glaring at the psychic. “You can’t just force us away just because we won’t leave, Sam.”

“I can’t make you stop hunting, so this is the alternative.” He said. Tracy snarled in anger.

“You’re a selfish asshole, you know that?” Sam smiled sadly.

“I don’t want you to have the lives I’ve seen play out for every hunter I’ve met.” He said. “Sue me if that’s wrong. Dean keeps me alive to keep me in hunting, and I’ve gotten to the point where I’d rather give up.” The looks on their faces made him wince, as tears began to fall. “I’m tired.” He continued, voice growing hoarse. “Like, really, really tired. Every inch, every muscle, every fiber, every cell, every atom of my body wants to end this. And I won’t bring other people’s lives in the way. I’ve been doing it long enough.”

They were quiet, as the tears rolled down Sam’s cheek. Sniffling to himself, he tapped Flagstaff on the head, in a similar way to how he tapped Metatron, before releasing her.

“Take them and go. Place them in their parents’ heavens.” Sam ordered. Almost instantly, the angel Flagstaff grabbed Tracy, resisting the girl’s attempts to break free. Josephine and Krissy were snatched by the one named Netzach, while Selaphiel pinned Aidan into a full-nelson. Sam’s eyes met Tracy’s, and he gave a small snap of his fingers.

The next second, they were in an office, surrounded by dozens of people in suits. The people, who Tracy assumed were angels, seemed as shocked as she felt at the sudden appearance of three angels and four teenaged hunters. The closest one, a young, dark-haired woman with blue eyes, shot to her feet.

“Flagstaff!” The angel exclaimed, looking in surprise from the lead angel to the two flanking her. “You have teleported to heaven! How have you regained your wings?” Tracy felt Flagstaff’s head shake.

“No, Hannah, we were banished. By Sam Winchester.” Hannah’s face turned from shock to sadness quickly, before moving to anger.

“You apprehended him and didn’t catch him, like Castiel requested?” She demanded incredulously. Flagstaff released Tracy, Netzach and Selaphiel following suit with Aidan, Krissy, and Josephine.

“He gave me a spell to restore the wings to the Host of Heaven.” Flagstaff explained. “I know where he is, and the moment the spell is finished, I will teleport back to his location and capture him.”

“You will have to explain that to Castiel and Dean Winchester.” Hannah said coldly. “They are coming here right now.” Almost like clockwork, an elevator on the other side of the room opened, with the older Winchester, and a man with pale skin, brown hair, and a beige overcoat. Approaching the small circle of angels and hunters, Dean’s eyes widened in shock.

“Krissy?” He turned to Tracy and the other two hunters. A horrified look appeared on his face. “You’re not-”

“No, they are still alive, Dean.” The man in the overcoat (apparently Castiel) commented. The angel’s gaze flickered to Hannah, frowning. “I thought you chose to leave your vessel?” Hannah shrugged.

“I’m not in Caroline’s body. The form you see me in now would be no more tangible on Earth than a soul from heaven. I just prefer manifesting in her guise in the physical plane.”

“Okay, whatever.” Dean interjected, looking around. “You said something about finding Metatron and Sam, now where are they?” Hannah sighed, turning back to Flagstaff, irritation on her face.

“Care to explain, Flagstaff?” Dean’s eyes darted to the aforementioned angel, narrowing into balls of hatred.

“What’d you do this time, you bitch?” He growled. Flagstaff gave a huff.

“I care not to speak with a murderer like you. And  _you_ ,” She looked pointedly at Castiel. “You failed to inform us of Sam Winchester’s  _abilities_.” The male angel’s eyebrows knotted.

“What abilities?” He inquired, his voice flat and monotonous.

“Telekinesis? Telepathy? Summoning hellhounds?” Netzach said, irritation clear in his voice. “Even if it meant putting the Abomination down, I wouldn’t dare come near him.”

“Oh, can it, you feathery dick.” Aidan snarled suddenly. The angels (and even Dean) looked to the boy in shock. Tracy couldn’t blame them. Apparently, the only people usually stupid enough to speak down to the Heavenly host to their faces that were Sam and Dean.

“We’re wasting time.” Flagstaff brought back the attention to her. “We need to brew the spell fast enough to teleport back to Sam, before he goes on the move again.”

She moved into action, conjuring a bowl and shouting directions at the other angels, who had started gathering around them. Within about three minutes (thank God for the fact that Heaven had unlimited supplies of everything, tangible or not) the spell was ready. After a few incantations in Enochian, the glowing substance exploded, permeating with light throughout the room.

There was a pause, a heavy presence filling the air, and the angels looked to each other, nodding.

“It’s a success.” Hannah said. Dean frowned, dubious.

“Just like that?” He asked. “Didn’t the tablet say the spell was irreversible?”

“Metatron was the one to write the tablet.” Castiel reminded his friend. “If there was a likely reversal spell, and if he had planned to turn on Heaven the whole time, he wouldn’t be inclined to reveal it. It is not of import.” Dean nodded.

“Right, we need to get to Sam.” He ordered. Krissy scoffed.

“I don’t think Sam wants to be anywhere near you.” She spat. The older hunter shrugged.

“I don’t care. He’s being a bitch, and he’s ignoring what’s best for him.” Tracy felt the frown deepen into her face.

“Best for him? Or best for you?” She countered. Dean gave her an ugly look.

“What’s best for me or Sam is what’s best for both of us. You may have forgotten, but we’re family.” She scoffed.

“Yeah, that’s rich. Seems like Sam going to Stanford was pretty much the closest thing to what was best for him, and you did nothing when your dad tried to beat the idea out of him.” Dean’s face hardened. Closing the gap between the two of them, he looked ready to spit in her face, before he blinked, face loosening as he tilted his head up and looking around.

“Where’s the redhead chick?” He grunted, looking around. Frowning, Tracy glanced over her shoulder to where Aidan was, and saw that the bitchy angel who had charged at Sam was gone. The girl paled.

“She’s going after Sam.” She whispered. The angels and Dean met each other’s gaze, and nodded. Seeing Castiel grab Dean’s shoulder, Tracy realized what was going to happen, and launched herself at the pair of them.

They were back in the dirt yard of the homeless encampment, Tracy and Dean sprawled on the floor with Castiel and Flagstaff firmly on their feet. The angel, Metatron, was whimpering on the ground, while Selaphiel had Sam in a death grip similar to Freya’s not two nights ago, lifting him off the ground and choking the light out of him.

“Sammy!” Dean shouted, running towards his brother. The redheaded angel tilted her head to see the elder Winchester, and sneered, holding her angel blade to Sam’s middle.

“You’re just in time.” She informed him. “Shall we see if his blood really is human?”

“Selaphiel,” Flagstaff warned. “Hannah has decreed that no humans shall be harmed unprovoked.” Selaphiel spat.

“Hannah is not here. And The Abomination has more than provoked his harm.”

“Back off.” Castiel growled, removing his blade. “Sam is my charge, and I won’t let you hurt him.” The redhead’s high-pealed laughter set her hair on edge.

“Funny, you and his brother end up harming him as often as those you claim to protect him from.” She said. “And letting him survive is your mistake, Castiel. The Winchesters were designed for the Apocalypse, and by preventing it, they just incite more and more chaos. I mean, Eve, the Leviathan, the Trials, the Fall, Abaddon, the Mark of Cain, the Darkness.” Her blade dug slowly into Sam’s shirt, causing a crimson stain to well and spread. “They’re not worth the trouble.” The younger Winchester chuckled.

“If you think I’m going to be taken down by a low-tier angel like you, you have another thing coming.” He snarled down at his captor. Selaphiel’s face hardened.

“Be careful how you speak, Abomination.” She hissed. “I am a Seraphim, one of the first, and you are not worth a wriggling worm in the rectum of Hell.” Sam ignored this, looking directly at Tracy.

 _Back away,_  He mouthed. Turning his gaze back down to the Seraphim, Sam smirked.

“So, how did one of the first Seraphim end up as a lackey, for first Michael, then Raphael, then Castiel, then Metatron, and now Hannah?” Selaphiel laughed.

“To say the least, it hasn’t been fun.” She admitted. “But when I take the ancient soul of the Lucifer Sword, embedded with shards of grace from the two oldest Archangels, layered with magic and psychic power, and tainted with demon blood?” She gave a shrug. “I think I can stake my claim.” Sam gave an evil laugh.

“First, you’ll have to deal with the Cage, Bitch.” A ripple of power ran through the expanse. As Tracy pulled Dean away, she felt the briefest flashes of fire, and the faintest of screams.

Flagstaff and Castiel, who were closer, stood winded and shocked. On the ground, whimpering, Metatron gave another scream, receiving more of the memory. And directly by the full blast, Selaphiel cried in agony, dropping Sam. Her hands appeared to be severely burnt. Turning back to Sam, she snarled. The younger Winchester seemed even more tired than usual, gasping and doubled over in pain, blood trickling from his nose and mouth, but Sam just laughed weakly and met her eyes.

“Ready for round 2?” The angel gave a piercing scream, running hand first at Sam. Fist sinking directly into his chest, she laughed in victory. Sam screamed in agony, as she tugged, removing a shining ball of white light. The hunter fell to his knees, panting and shuddering.

“Sam!” Tracy cried out. The hazel eyes, now cold and calculating, met hers, and before anyone could react further, Sam had gotten to his feet, grabbed Selaphiel’s angel blade, and hacked at the distracted Seraphim.

The redhead gave a squeak of shock, as threadlike white light poured from her slit throat. Relinquishing the glowing white light in her hand, she fell to the ground, backing away.

Everyone was silent, as Sam eyed what Tracy suspected was his soul in a peculiar interest.  The psychic’s hand was extended, clearly pushing the soul away so it couldn’t force itself back in, as well as suspending the thread of silvery light that came from Selaphiel in mid-air.

Sam’s soul, to say the least, was beautiful. It shined with bright white presence. The sound it gave off was almost like a lullaby, soft, almost like rainfall in the distance. However, it was just as macabre as it was amazing. There were angry pulsating shards of ice white and firey orange, presumably shots of energy from Lucifer and Michael, trying to burrow in, and sending harsh pulses all across the surface. There was even some traces of yellow swirling through the otherwise pure white soul, evidently the only lasting presence of Azazel.

“Sam, look.” Dean said all of a sudden, stepping past Tracy towards his brother. “I know the soulless part of you wants to survive, right?” Sam didn’t respond, a combination of amusement and arrogance on his face as he smirked. Dean pressed on.  “Well, you have to know using your powers and magic is killing you. You need to stop.” There was a pause.

“Nice job trying to appeal to fear, Dean.” His younger brother drawled. “But, thing is, survival doesn’t happen either way for me.”

“My grace..” Selaphiel gave a croak, crawling towards the floating light, extending with one hand. “Give it back, you mud-monkey.”  Sam gave the Seraphim an unimpressed look.

“I don’t think so. See, it’s my grace, now.”

“Sam..” Castiel warned, inching closer to his friend. “Stealing an angel’s grace is an abominable thing. Return it to her, and you shall suffer no crime.” Sam huffed.

“That’s rich, coming from you, Castiel.” He jeered. “How many graces did you burn through once yours was taken?” Castiel’s face hardened into anger.

“Please, Sam, I am trying to help you.” The angel shifted his eyes towards Dean. “We both are.” Sam barked a laugh that was unhinging to Tracy. It was rough, forced. False.

“The pair of you are as helpful to me as smoking is to a lung cancer patient.” Sam said. “Your ‘help’ gets me hurt more often than not.” Dean snarled.

“We save your sorry ass time after time, you little bitch.” He spat. “Don’t be ungrateful.” Sam lazily cocked an eye over to his brother.

“You beat me every time you can’t control me, Dean. Just like Dad. Am I supposed to be grateful for that?” He asked sarcastically. Dean said nothing. His gaze shifted to the angel. “And you, Cass, when you found out I was soulless, you begged Dean not to put my soul back in. Despite the fact that it meant leaving my soul to rot in Hell. Was that you trying to ‘help’?”

“Sam, I thought it was best-”

“For you.” The soulless one laughed. “Dean and I were already doing most of the dirty work for you and Crowley to find Purgatory, and you’d pretty much lost the majority of the Campbell family, making  _us_  your best resource. And, putting my soul back in would incapacitate my body, making it useless to you as a hunter, and Dean and Bobby’d be wrapped up in tending to me, so they would also become useless in the search for Purgatory.” He turned back to Dean. “How ‘bout when you shoved Gadreel in my head, had me kill Kevin? Mmm? Called me an ungrateful bitch when all I’ve ever wanted to do is stop Hunting.” Back to Castiel. “Or when you cracked my Wall.” He smiled softly. “You two only do what is best for your own emotional well-being.”

“Just give the grace back to Selaphiel, Sam. If you consume that grace, it will kill you.” Castiel warned. Sam gave a smile.

“A human consuming a grace if they weren’t an angel before will kill them, yes.” He pointed out. “When an angel in a vessel has no grace, it becomes human. When an angel in it’s pure form loses it’s grace, it becomes a soul, and will make it’s own vessel. So, what would happen if a soul is bound to a grace, before being placed back in the vessel?” The courtyard hushed. Sam made a final crushing motion with his hand.

The grace and the soul made contact, and a high-pitched wail echoed throughout the encampment. Blinding light bean to emerge from the two objects, and Castiel and Flagstaff had to yell at Dean and Tracy to look away.

By the time the light cleared, Sam was left looking highly rejuvenated, a passive look on his face.

“Mercy, please.” Selaphiel begged. Sam looked down at her, evidently humored.

“It’s funny, if you had said that before, I might’ve listened to you.” He informed her. “Unlike Metatron, you weren’t completely irredeemable in my eyes.

“But, then again, before you wouldn’t have believed me. Why would a Seraphim believe the Abomination, a tortured Psychic Witch tainted with demon blood and meant to be Lucifer’s vessel?” He paused. “Guess the game changes when it’s a human against the Abomination, a tortured Psychic Witch tainted with demon blood and meant to be Lucifer’s vessel, and running on the grace of a Seraphim.”

Behind him, Tracy could see shadows of large wings, and froze.

Stepping away from her, Sam made his way over to the whimpering Metatron. Reaching inside his coat-pocket, Sam removed a small little rock, covered in scrawl. Dusting it off, he looked to the two angels.

“I suppose I don’t need to tell you and Heaven in it’s entirety to stay away from me.” He said calmly. “With one of the Words of God on my hand, and the grace of a Seraphim merged with my soul, plus the psychic powers from Hell and the massive knowledge of spells, I’m pretty much too much for any of you to handle.”

“Sammy, wait.” Dean interrupted, stepping out to approach his brother. “Why are you doing this, man?” Sam gave his brother a sad smile.

“We shouldn’t be alive, Dean.” He said. “We’ve broken the world just as often as we’ve fixed it, and every time one of us avoids death it’s just more chaos for the world. How long before we end it, and just accept death?” Dean opened his mouth to protest, but Sam shushed him.

“Dean, you act like I’m some sheltered puppy. Like you can protect me from all that’s bad, and that you have to, because I’m your little brother. But my soul’s old, far older than yours, and I’ve dealt with much more than you ever have.” Dean’s mouth shut. “We both lost Mom, and Dad, and Bobby, and Jo and Ellen and Ash, and Charlie, and Kevin. But I lost Jess. Got called a monster by my own brother, found out I was set up by Ruby, who I trusted and even loved, started the Apocalypse, had to finish it, went and experienced over seven millennia of brutal agony at the hands of two Archangels, pretty much got betrayed by my younger brother, came back, found out I’d killed enormous amounts of people without a soul, had to try to atone for it while going insane, had my older brother pretty much tell me how a vampire he’d just met was more trustworthy then me, started Trials to close Hell only for you to talk me out of finishing so I wouldn’t die, got possessed against my will by an angel, something you know up and down I hate, went on a rampage, killed Kevin, ended up dealing with your whole I’m-poison schtick, with you also bitching about how I said I wouldn’t save your life in the same circumstances, had to cure you as a demon while you taunted me the whole time, got yelled at for trying to save your life, inadvertently killed Charlie, and helped Rowena set loose this Darkness.” Sam was crying now, and Tracy eyed Dean to see that he was pretty much in the same boat. “I let you down to many times before, Dean. You need to let go.”

“Sammy..” He begged, his voice needy. Sam’s eyes met his.

“Goodbye, Dean.” Turning to Selaphiel and the catatonic Metatron, Sam concentrated and pressed two fingers to his temple. A breeze blew around them, the growling and snarling of hellhounds audible.

Flagstaff and Castiel teleported them out just long enough to see both former angels being ripped into pieces, screaming and pleading for help.

Returning to Heaven, the angels tried tracking Sam in the same way all angels could be tracked. But, apparently, whether it was the fact that Sam wasn’t an angel to begin with, or that Sam had bountiful amounts of psychic and magic power, or simply because he possessed the Word of God, he was incapable of being found.

As soon as Sam had been found, he had disappeared.

To defeat this “Darkness”, Tracy was certain.

The only question was how.


End file.
